Sunshine
by humanoidbeings
Summary: Boruto falls in love. Sadly, it wasn't meant to be. BorutoxMaleOC WIP
1. Chapter 1

Boruto always wondered why the Hokage's office was so plain. Were all the past leaders of Konoha this stingy with decorations, or was it just his father? The walls were so plain, the only thing on them pictures of the Hokages of Past, seeming to fade into the sand colored walls. Boruto glanced over at his father's desk and noticed the only thing really decorating the furniture were piles of paperwork; the parchment in question haphazardly strewn across the oak desk, covering the keyboard to his computer. Only one corner of his father's desk was neat, the back right corner that held two stainless steel picture frames.

Boruto knew one of those picture frames held a copy of the picture that was in their living room of his fathers genin team; Uncle Sasuke looking like he would rather not be there, Aunt Sakura blushing and looking like she had the team of her life being next to the black haired shinobi, Kakashi giving off the aura that he would rather be out fighting S-ranked nin than babysitting three hopeless genin, and Boruto's own dad an orange glaring monstrosity.

The other picture was of their whole family from at least ten years previous, Boruto and Himiwari climbing on their father who was smiling widely, their mother looking on while radiating a sense of happiness and pure love. Boruto could barely remember those days, back when his father was just a jonin impatiently waiting his turn to wear the hat, but he could remember the warmth of his father's presence being there to tuck him in at night. Boruto wondered if Himiwari could remember those days, or was their father always stuck in his Hokage role in her mind, the two interchangeable, no difference between the position of kage and her father?

"Boruto, are you even listening to me?"

The blond winced at his father's accusatory voice, knowing he was caught doing something the elder did not like.

"Of course I was," Boruto nonchalantly drawled, moving to lean against the old oak desk, careful not to knock anything off so he wouldn't make his father more annoyed with his mere presence.

His father sighed and rubbed his temples, artificial arm moving minuscule slower than the original blood and bones one on his left arm. Boruto wondered if anyone else noticed or was it just his mind playing games on him?

"Boruto, you're not listening. Again," Naruto growled out, clearly frustrated. Boruto didn't move any muscle in his face, just simply shrugged. Internally, he wished that his father's advisor was here to dispel some of the tension between father and son like he usually did, but alas, Shikimaru was out and about, doing who knows what. The young suspected he was probably doing his job.

"Is that chair even comfortable?" Boruto asked, glancing toward the old olive chair his father sat at that dwarfed his large father and made him look like a toddler sitting in a seat proportionately made for adults.

"Damn it, Boruto, I didn't call you in here to talk about my chair." Boruto wondered why he could always aggravate his father so quickly. It seemed like every time he was in his father's presence he did something or another to set him off, incapable of keeping the peace between them because of his very existence. Whenever Naruto would see Himiwari, a grin grew across his face. Whenever he spotted his eldest child, he always looked like he grew a migraine. Bolt tried to not let the observation affect him.

"Then why did you call me in here?"

"I have an assignment for you."

"I thought I was put on medical leave," Boruto sneered, suddenly enraged at the remembrance.

Naruto ignored his sons' tone of voice and addressed the question itself. "I am putting you on light duty as of today. This is a D-ranked mission with a low chance of you getting into any fights."

Boruto jerked, posture stiffening. What his father just said was a slap to his face.

"A D-Rank? I'm not a fucking genin anymore."

"You've proven to me that you can't be trusted to go on any mission that may put the lives of your teammates in danger. You cannot blame me for this, Boruto. You've brought this onto yourself."

Boruto felt the familiar sting of tears coming to his eyes, but he willed them down. His father was hardly ever home enough to see him smile, he would not allow the man to see him cry.

The Hokage wasn't even looking at his son, shuffling the papers on his desk around to have something to focus on other than the son he couldn't even relate to anymore.

The blue eyed twenty-year-old walked over to the wall of windows in the North side of his father's office. In front of him was the stone faces of all of Konoha's kage's— the first, Hashirama Senju; the second Tobirama Senju; the third, Hiruzen Saratobi; the fourth, and the father his father never knew, Minato Namikaze; the fifth, Granny Tsunade; the sixth, a reluctant Kakashi Hatake; and finally his unreliable father, the man married to the village more than his family, Naruto Uzumaki. Boruto wondered if the Hat was cursed, all who wore it had to give their lives for it, be it metaphorically or realistically.

"This isn't a punishment, not necessarily…" Naruto sighed. Boruto watched his father in the reflection of the streak-free glass in front of him, the mirror image making him feel detached from the scene himself, as if he was watching it through a television or computer screen. Boruto could pretend this all was some bad soap opera, not his own life. "Your mother and I are concerned for you. There is something wrong with you and you won't tell either of us… Taking this mission will allow you to prove yourself to me that you can perform your duty as any other shinobi can: with a clear head. Boruto, that last mission you went on… if you had been thinking a little bit more clearly you would've come back fine…"

"I came back fine," Boruto muttered, in a staring contest with his father's stone face.

"If Sarada and Mitsuki weren't there you would've come back in a body bag!"

The Hokages gruff yell caused Boruto to pause and the world around him stilled, like someone had hit the pause button on a video game and he was nothing more than a two dimensional character forever trapped in a algorithmic hell.

"You doubt my ability?" His voice didn't shake or waver, but it was quieter than his usual tone.

"I doubt your will to live."

The words created a still in the air, a prayer to a forgotten god, a worry from a father to a son.

They stayed like that for moments that created years in their minds, father and son facing away from each other; father with his shaking hands crumpling important documents, worry lines etched on his face like cracks in a war torn earth; son unblinkingly stuck in a staring contest with the overwhelming presence of his father in stone.

A bold knock came from the thick door, knocking father and son out of their little world. Naruto laid the papers he was crinkling down on the table and tried to smooth it out as best as possible. Boruto kept staring out at the stone faces.

Shikamaru entered the room, and immediately sweat dropped at the tense atmosphere he had just walked into.

'What a drag,' The brunette man thought.

"Naruto, you've got a meeting with the elders in five minutes," Shikamaru said, walking up to the blonds desk and dumping the papers in his hands onto the already sky high pile. Naruto groaned and hung his head in defeat. He could fight in a war, but he couldn't fight his paper work.

"Alright, alright," Naruto said before addressing his kin. "Boruto, your mission is to keep an important business man from Getsugakure out of trouble."

Boruto whipped around to glare at his father. Shikamaru sighed and ignored the two blonds, preferring to let them duke it out between themselves instead of getting involved.

"I can't believe you're putting me on _babysitting_ duty."

"You will not be babysitting Yosano-san, as he is almost twenty years your senior. You will guide him around the village and answer his questions. You will also be the only guard we assign him, as he has elected to forgo obtaining them."

"Can't you give this to someone else?" Boruto whined, plump pink upper lip curled in disgust. That turned out to be the wrong thing to say.

"Boruto, I know I am your father, but I am also your kage, so you _will_ show me some respect. You will take the mission I decide to give you, or you will take no mission for the next year. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Hokage-sama." And with that, the young blond angrily bolted from the room, leaving his father with the echos of a slammed door.

Naruto jumped to his feet and yelled after his son, "Wait, you need your mission information— and he's gone." He slumped down into his seat, placing his head in his hands. "Were did I go wrong?" He muttered to himself. Shikamaru wasn't sure if he was supposed to have heard the last bit, so he didn't reply.

"Shika, send the mission information to my son somehow. Through ANBU black ops, his mother, your son— hell, send it through a carrier pigeon for all I care. Just make sure he gets it."

Shikamaru nodded in response. He watched his old friend pick himself up, brush off the cold solder he got from his son, and continued with his life, pretending like it wasn't killing him to not follow after his son.

Shikamaru believed that becoming Hokage was the worst thing Naruto had ever done to himself, but he could never tell the blond that.

"Yes, Hokage-sama."

"Now that that is settled, send in my next appointment."

When Boruto become of age, Hinata was relieved when her oldest child decided that he was going to keep living with his family. Hinata always worried over her son, as some times he tended not to think things through. She half-believed he would spend all his rent money on video games and would then be kicked out to the streets, his pride not letting him ask his parents for money or a place to stay. The blue-haired woman knew that her son always felt like he always had to prove something to her husband and their village.

Hinata was not quite sure that he stayed with them because he loved his family, or he still wanted someone to feed him and wash his laundry.

Whatever his real reason for staying was, she was glad he did, since then she could watch over her oldest and try and smooth any hurt feelings between father and son. She could not figure out how almost every single conversation the two blond loves of her life ended with hurt feelings and angry words, but it did. Hinata sighed. If only her son had obtained her understanding soul, one that Himiwari seemed to have inherited. She wondered if the reason that father and son couldn't get along was because they were too close in personality. She would never tell them that, of course.

Hinata knew that her son had another fight with his father after he had come home in a huff, ignored her greeting, and closed himself in his room for the past four hours. He did not even come out for dinner, which was saying something about her son.

Hinata knocked on the young man's white painted door, plate of dinner in her hand. "Boruto?" She called out.

"Come in," a muffled voice responded. Hinata entered swiftly. Her son's room was neat, an entire childhood of being scolded by the blue haired woman made the blond clean his room before it got too bad where he had to hear another lecture from his normally soft mother.

Boruto was lying in his bed on top of the blue comforter, bed messily made, face in his pillow, portable game console in his hand. It was the same one from his childhood, the old version that he refused to part with and only played when he was sad, the old games being a comfort. Hinata assumed that the games themselves reminded him of simpler times.

Hinata walked to his side table, clearing off a little room to stably place the plate full of food down to where nothing would slide off the plate. Hinata turned to look at her son before sitting on the edge of his bed, blue comforter crinkling under her weight. She placed a thin hand on the blonds' head, running her hand through the silky soft locks. Her gold wedding ring seemed to glow in the dim light the lamp set off.

"Your hair is getting so long," Hinata stated. Boruto nodded, his now shoulder length hair adjusting to the movement.

"Your uncle had such beautifully long hair," Hinata nodded, reminiscing about her deceased cousin with a pang in her heart. "He didn't tell anyone, but he spent a good portion of his mission money on hair products."

"It's hard to keep up with," Boruto said, wincing as his mother found a tangle in his normally silk hair. Hinata nodded as she undid the knot, causing her son to wince as she tugged too hard on his scalp. "But I don't know… I like it. It sets me apart from dad and even granddad."

Hinata nodded, knowing her son struggle to become himself in a world that saw him as a clone of the previous Namikaze generations.

They sat in silence for a while, just enjoying each other's presence. Boruto loved that his mother would never push subjects and always knew when to be quiet; a skill his father hadn't figured out, even in his old age and kage status. Himiwari was more like her father in this aspect; a nosy little sibling that was always in her older brothers business. Hinata knew that if she waited long enough, her son would confide his problems in her. Forcing him to talk about them would just make him clam up more.

Eventually, he started talking. "Mom, how come whatever I do, it's never enough for him?"

Hinata began braiding her son's hair, up then under, up then under. "Don't ever believe that he isn't proud of you— because he is. He just sometimes… needlessly compares your generation to ours, which doesn't help anyone. They were two separate times. Your generation has experienced a lifetime of peace— or as close as we can get in this world. Your father and I's generation was built on bloodshed— the entire genocide of an influential clan except for one child, a time where the Hyugas sealed anyone considered to be in the Branch family, and your father… grew up hated by the entire village and vowed to become the Hokage to prove himself to those who doubted him, tore him down. Your father just wishes you would push yourself harder and not just focus on things that come easy to you. Your father spent years and years training to be the best he could be, but you tend to give up on things you cannot easily figure out. I believe he just wishes you were a little more like him."

Boruto glanced at his mother, a cold look in his eyes. "I guess me and him will always be at war."

Hinata sighed before placing a light kiss on the top of her sons head. Standing up she said, "You and him may go different about it, but you both just want you to be the best you can be, in everything. You guys are on the same team, but have different ways of how you should reach your goal. Your father is not the enemy; he just wants what's best for you."

The blue eyed young man nodded, but Hinata knew he was nodding to get out of this conversation, not because he believed in her. Hinata sighed.

"Eat your dinner, I hear you have a mission tomorrow," She said before reaching into her purple jacket and pulling out the mission scroll, tossing it at her sons prone figure on the bed. It hit him in the back with an "oof!" causing the mom to giggle lightly.

Hours later when she opened her son's door at midnight to check to see if he ate, she noticed that the plate of food she graciously brought him had not been touched at all.

Boruto was late.

Boruto was _fucking_ late for this _genin_ level mission. His father was going to strangle him with his bare hands when he found out.

Boruto hadn't woken up to his alarm clock, which was a surprise since the thing is as loud as a herd of elephants, but he had trouble chasing dreams last night, which explains the dark circles under his eyes. When he finally awoke, half an hour late, he didn't even have time to shower or eat breakfast. He changed as quickly as possible, untangled his hair from the braid he slept in, and left a laughing Himiwari in his tracks and an exasperated mother serving food on the kitchen table.

His father was not at the table, so Boruto assumed he had spent another night in the Hokage tower, like he did most nights.

Running down the street toward the front gate, dodging all the citizens of Konoha, Boruto thoroughly checked that he had his kunai and his mission scroll on his person. He was relieved when he felt their familiar weight on him.

'I'm lucky that our house is only a seven minute run to the front gate,' Boruto thought to himself as he spotted the gate, quickly coming to a stop, dirt trailing behind him, two marks in the normally flat earth below. Boruto was only breathing a little bit harder, years of endurance training making his race against time manageable.

Boruto noticed a still figure leaning on the wall by the entrance, already having gotten past the gate guards who verified his work visa. All of a sudden, Boruto remembered that he had no idea what the man he was supposed to be babysitting even looked like. Boruto cursed himself for not looking at the mission report more thoroughly. He quickly grabbed the scroll from his pocket and scanned through it, but he couldn't find a description of the man anywhere. The eighteen year old sweat dropped, damning whoever created such a half-ass mission scroll. In his mood, he didn't notice a figure approaching him until he was two steps in front of him.

"I assume you are the one that's supposed to keep me out of trouble," a smooth voice stated, causing Boruto to jerk his head up and stare at the stranger in front of him. A man with brown hair and brown eyes was in front of him. He must have been around Boruto's parent's age, the laughter lines and crow's feet giving away the passing time of his life.

"Yori Yosano?" Boruto asked, and for some reason, when he made eye contact with the man whom he was supposed to look out for, he blushed slightly, rose dusting his cheeks. The man in front of him grinned widely, showing off white teeth, the canines slightly crooked.

"The one and only, kid."

 **AN: Hey guys : ). I haven't written and published a fanfic in so long, but I love my baby Boruto and decided to fuck it and create a ff of my own because he didn't have enough love on here yet. I hope to update every Monday, but sometimes life or writer's block may get in the way, but things happen and I will try my hardest to update this piece of trash as much as possible.**

 **This is going to be an angst-y fic, be warned. And yes, Boruto will be in a gay pairing with an OC. A lot of OC fics are women, and I wanted to go in a different direction than that. Also, that boy ain't straight.**

 **If you have any questions or comments, please PM me or review.**


	2. Chapter 2

There were always some men that confirmed Boruto's sexual preference to men. Yori Yosano was one of those men.

Yori, at first look, looked completely average. He had straight, dark brown hair that didn't have many flyaway's; his eyes were a medium brown, appearing like topaz gemstones when the light hit them just right; his nose was proportional to the rest of his face, not too wide and not too big; his mouth was a little on the thin side with a scar on the top lip; and his jaw was sharp with thick stubble, which showed up in contrast to his pale skin. All in all, a perfectly normal face. There was something about it that made people double take. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, all confidence. Maybe it was the friendly smile that he greeted everyone with. Maybe it was the loving spirit his aura seemed to excrete. Whatever it was, it had Boruto hooked, and that was dangerous.

Boruto cursed the blush on his face. The man in front of him was still smiling widely, but with a raised eyebrow and a curious expression.

Boruto coughed, trying to make the mood more professional between the two.

"Hello, Yosano-san, I am the person sent to show you around my home village. My name is Boruto Uzumaki," Boruto stated evenly, bowing slightly. The blush on his face seemed to be here to stay. Boruto cursed his mother's genetics.

Yosano cocked his head to the side, like a dog would. "Uzumaki, huh? Any relation to the oh great and powerful Lord Seventh?"

Boruto forgot his professionalism for a second, the mask reserved for missions slipping. He stuck his tongue out at the mention of his genetic giver. Yosano laughed, and suddenly Boruto remembered who he was around. He gave a sheepish smile, blush darkening on his face, rubbing the back of his neck, elbow extended toward the sun.

" Lemme guess, he's your dad? Everyone looks like that when their father is mentioned."

"Yes, Yosano-san, Lord Seventh is my father."

Yosano waved his hand in the air as if to dispel a vision, strong fingers catching wide blue eyes. "Please, do not call me Yosano-san; Yori is fine. I have the strangest feeling that you and I are going to become very… _close_."

Boruto's eyes widened. Was this man… _Flirting_ with him? The blond had heard stories from his fellow shinobi about the people they were on missions to watch over coming onto them, but they had always made it sound like a bad thing. Boruto was entertained by this man who was almost his parent's age flirting with him. It was nice, someone who he found desirable flirting with him. Too bad nothing could come from it.

"Are you flirting with me?" Boruto blurted out, not thinking before opening his mouth. His mother told him that was a trait he had inherited from his father. He gulped and looked at the older man with a deer caught in the headlights expression. Yori laughed, a deep thing, that reminded the young man somehow of beef stew on cold winter nights.

"Nothing gets over your head, huh, Sunshine?"

"'Sunshine'?" the blonde asked, perplexed. This time it was the older man's turn to blush. Boruto had never seen an adult man blush before, and he was entranced by the rose dusting on the man's pale cheeks.

"Y-yeah," the previously confident man stuttered out, "Your hair is like… Sunshine solidified. When the sun rays hit it just right, it gives you sort of a halo, and makes you look ethereal."

Boruto was perplexed; he was never given compliments on his appearance other than that his eyes were 'more blue-er than the seventh's' which was a compliment given to him by Sadara years ago when they took the chunin exams.

He didn't exactly know what to say to that, so he quickly grabbed out the mission scroll in his front pocket of his track suit, and unfurled it, fingers shaking miniscule. The blond quickly scanned the contents of the scroll, and then rescanned it, having been too distracted to really take in anything that was written on it.

"Okay, so it basically looks like you hired me to show you around the village?" Boruto asked, one blond eyebrow raised. Yori nodded, smiling slightly; internally glad they moved on from his bad flirting and onto more professional topics.

"Yeah, I'm only going to be in town for about three weeks for a business conference and I needed someone to show me around so I can navigate around the village on my own."

"What do you do?" Boruto asked curious, as he started walking the opposite way of the front gate. Yori caught on, and trailed beside the eighteen year old.

"I actually work for Garse Inc., ya know, the company that makes all those portable games?"

Boruto's eyes widened, and he started jumping up and down in place, grabbing on to his client's arm. He mentally noted that it was warm and steady, but it was missing all the muscles he had grown used to on all his shinobi friends and family. Office jobs didn't require one to workout or train much. Boruto didn't really mind it. "I LOVE Death Day I, II, and IV!"

Yori smiled as they kept walking, eyes little 'u's. "What about Death Day III: Revenge of the Dead?"

Boruto stuck his tongue out and let go of the man's arm and instead poked it. "Death Day III: Revenge of the Dead was so lame; it wasn't even an original thought. Come on, zombies? As if zombies weren't an idea already beaten to death by media nowadays."

"Are you trying to tell me that you think the Death Day series in general is original at all?," Yori asked incredulously, swatting the blonds' hands away from his figure. Boruto huffed and crossed his arms. Boruto was amazed that he could act so friendly toward a total stranger. Out of the two of the Uzumaki siblings, Himawari was more of the friendly open one; Boruto tended to be distant and reserved toward people he didn't know. "Are you for real trying to tell me that a game that has basically no plot and is all about surviving after the fall of all the shinobi villages is _original_?"

"It's more original than zombies."

"We can agree to disagree."

"Wow, really showing your age with that statement."

"Oh, be quiet you, don't you have a job to do instead of harassing your clients?"

Boruto sighed dramatically, and swept his hand around the perimeter of where they were standing. Yori looked around, a dark eyebrow raised. "As you can see, we are walking down Konoha's main street. For the first few blocks, the stores are horribly over priced and are basically tourist traps. Also, I am not allowed inside of them."

"What happened?"

"The Great Prank War is what happened. Dad still isn't allowed in them either, even though he is Hokage."

"I'm kinda scared to ask what you both did."

"Even my mother doesn't know," Boruto grinned cheekily. "Me and Dad decided that there was some things she didn't need to know. Now, over there is the best place to get a hamburger, and…."

Boruto just started pointing out random shops, not completely sure what he was supposed to show the man. The mission scroll stated— in the most vague terms— to show the newcomer around. Boruto made a mental note to talk to someone about that scroll.

The two men walked through the village, from the restaurant and shop filled main street, to the side street leading to the academy, to the road split that lead to the training grounds, and eventually all the way toward the business district. The business district was near in the southwestern section of the village, off to the side. Boruto rarely had a reason to go to that section of buildings, so he didn't know it well.

They walked to a building that had a large sign in front of it that read: GARSE INC.

"I assume this is where I will be working the next few weeks," Yori sighed, staring at the building. It gave off a demanding presence, with its slate grey outer walls. It was a more modern building in design, rows on rows of room sized windows. You could see a sea of people in business suits working diligently on their computers when you peaked through the windows, and other people pretending to be working but were really watching funny cat videos.

"Yes… And I guess this concludes our tour," Boruto said, slightly sad that he would have to leave behind the nice brunette. Boruto couldn't figure out what had attracted him to this man so quickly, but he was sad to see him go.

The brunette turned to him, readjusting the strap of his olive backpack. He looked desperate; Boruto hoped it was a sign that the man didn't want to part with him as much as he did. Boruto cursed himself for his wishful thinking. He should know thinking like that leads to disappointment. Boruto was never the first choice.

Suddenly, Boruto's stomach growled loudly, echoing in the quiet street around them. Boruto blushed in embarrassment. Yori couldn't stop laughing, holding onto his stomach.

"How about we go get some food in that body of yours?" Yosano offered, wiping a tear from his eye.

Boruto frowned. "Don't feel like you have to, I understand that you have work to do…"

"Work will always be waiting," Yori said with a strange look crawling across his face. "It can wait. People can't."

When they made eye contact, Yori gave him a smile that made his heart lurch a bit. Boruto ignored it, as he tended to do.

"Well okay…. I don't really know any food shops around here, though…"

"How about we just walk in one direction and go to the first shop we come across? Then it will be a new experience for both of us." Boruto nodded and the two men took off down the street, the opposite way they came in. They walked in comfortable silence, Yori pointing out shapes of clouds every so often.

"My childhood best friend always cloud watched," Boruto noted. For some reason, he wanted this man to know every little thing about his life; his friends, his memories, his aspirations, the things he hates. Boruto tried not to think about why. Tried to remind himself that he wasn't here to stay.

"Why isn't he your best friend anymore?" Yori asked, still staring at the grey clouds above them. It looked like it might rain tonight. Boruto stumbled, having not expected the question.

"I don't know… We just got older and ya know, things change. We were put on different genin teams, so we didn't have the opportunity to hang out much after graduating from the academy. We still talk sometimes; we're just not as close." Boruto thought about how easy it was to lose someone important in your life. Even though Shikadai was still alive and still his friend, he had a new place in Boruto's life. He wasn't the person he went to first when he had a problem, he wasn't always hanging around his house with him, and they weren't causing trouble together anymore. Shikadai was now the friend he got food with sometimes and the relationship was easy, but it was light. Boruto didn't share his secrets with the Nara anymore, and the Nara spoke to him in a slightly distant manner, as if he didn't know how to anymore. In a way, losing people who were still alive was worse than losing people who had passed away.

Yori looked at him with a sad smile on his face, the look making his wrinkles stand out. He looked at him like he understood. Yori didn't say anything and Boruto was glad he didn't.

They came across this slightly run down looking restaurant. It had been near the edge of the business district and it was the only restaurant the two had come across on their quest for nourishment. It was a yellow building that had some of the paint peeling off in patches, the signs were in a complete different language than the one spoken in Konoha (neither man knew what it was), and there was no door in the doorway. Boruto stared at the restaurant in front of them, then at Yori; Yori stared at Boruto, then back at the building in front of them. With a shared nod, the two entered the dilapidated building and left their fate in the hands of the gods.

"Welcome!" a bubbly voice greeted them the moment they stepped through the doorway. Upon entering, the two men were met with the sight of an animated young woman. She had short brown hair that went everywhere, like she had stuck her finger into an electric socket. Her eyes were an odd bubblegum pink that were rare. She looked thrilled to see them, probably not used to getting too many customers in their little out of the way shop.

"Hello," Boruto greeted with a polite smile.

"Sit anywhere you like! As you can see, we don't really have a full house," The girl smiled. The men decided to sit down at the booth farthest from the open entryway. Boruto claimed the seat that put his back to the wall and his front to the door, a lifetime of ninja training instilling that he be ready at a moment's notice for a fight.

"Hi! My name's Machi and I will be your server today!" Machi greeted, her hands crossed behind her back. Boruto noted that the younger girl didn't have any menus in her hands, which was slightly odd. "Your food will be finished shortly!"

Yori and Boruto sent each other a confused look.

"But… we didn't even order anything yet?" Yori asked, confused. Boruto nodded his head vigorously.

Machi looked confused, and then she laughed, a look of realization on her face. "Oh, gosh, I guess you couldn't read the signs!" Suddenly, Machi's lips curled in confusion, finger tapping against her dark cheek. "Hey, wait a minute— if you can't read the signs, then how could you even tell that this place was a restaurant then?"

"All the signs had pictures of food on them," Boruto said.

"Makes sense," Machi stated, nodding in agreement, brown hair flying everywhere.

"Can we go back to the problem at hand?" Yori asked, exasperated at the two younger individuals around him.

"What problem?" Machi asked, completely oblivious. It seemed that she wasn't the brightest crayon in the box.

Yori took a deep breath and rubbed his hands over his face, disbelieving. "How are we getting food if the cook doesn't even know our orders?"

Machi laughed. "Oh, because this is a psychic restaurant, silly!"

Both men sweat dropped, disbelieving. Boruto slammed his head on the cherry wood table and didn't lift it back up. Yori fell backwards in his chair, his soul escaping his body.

"I'm getting too damn old for this shit, I swear," He grumbled to himself.

"Anyway," Machi said, wide smile crinkling her eyes. Boruto couldn't tell if she was faking it or if she was really this happy about everything all the time. He thought that that'd be exhausting, being happy all the time. "While the chef is psychic, I am not, so you guys are gonna have to tell me your drink orders."

Boruto met Yori's eyes, and promptly burst out laughing.

And they couldn't stop. With tears streaming down his face, Boruto couldn't remember the last time he was every this happy; Boruto wasn't quite sure he had ever been this happy before, even when he was younger and his father was around and his days were sent with scrapped knees and his mom gave him forehead kisses every hour and Himawari could only toddle around in the way little kids can only do. Some day's happiness felt so foreign to him, as if the emotion didn't belong to him at all, like borrowed shoes that were the right size but didn't fit _exactly_ right.

It was crazy that he could find happiness in this little, rickety old outlet in the middle of nowhere with a man that he had met less than four hours ago whom he felt more comfortable around than half of his friends and a serving girl with bubblegum eyes.

"Machi! Get your ass back here!" A gruff voice called from the back, knocking the blond out of his thoughts.

Machi smiled wide, her crooked teeth glowing in the sunshine lit area. "Gotta go, boss man's calling me. You know how it is." With that, she disappeared before their very eyes. Boruto wondered if she was a kunoichi.

Yori turned to Boruto with a smile on his face and Boruto felt himself entranced by this older man. Yori smiled at the young Uzumaki like he was drunk, one side of his lips raised higher than the other. Boruto noticed that he had a small scar on his upper lip, slightly hidden behind stubble.

"Where'd you get the scar?" Boruto asked, pointing on his own face the place where Yori had the scar.

"I got in a fight with my brothers when I was younger. We were fighting and he elbowed me in the face and I had to get four stitches," Yori told the blond, staring at Machi who hummed as she walked through the small room, carrying two large plates, easily balancing them on her forearm. Yori looked up at Boruto, who had a disappointed look on his face. Yori laughed. "Not everything has a deep meaning behind it; sometimes things just are."

"Hey guys! Your food's ready!" Machi said, grinning widely, setting down the two off tone white plates down in fron of them. Boruto gazed into his dish and was met with the sight of Oyakodon, a soup rice bowl with egg and chicken in it. Boruto was pleasantly surprised by his dish. His mother had made it time and time again for his sister and him whenever it was cold out and even though the summer air was stifling around him, it brought him back to winter nights in the Uzumaki household. Boruto dug into his food with gusto.

Boruto looked up to be greeted with the defeated face of his acquaintance. Boruto stretched over the table to be greeted with the image of Kaki no Dote Nabe, which is basically oysters simmered in broth with vegetables.

"You don't like oysters?" Boruto asked, twirling around a spoon in his hot broth.

"I'm allergic to shellfish." Boruto froze, and then lost his mind. Boruto laughed so hard he started snorting, hand over his mouth. Boruto bet he looked crazy like this.

"Some psychic, huh?" Boruto laughed.

Yori stuck out his tongue to the blond, which had him rolling his eyes at the thought of the man in front of him being older than his eighteen years.

Yori pushed his plate to the side and forced Boruto's Oyakodon in between them. Boruto gently swatted his hands away from it, trying to keep it all for himself.

"C'mon trade with me," Yori whined.

"Ew, no, I hate oysters," Boruto retorted, sticking his tongue out at the man.

"At least you're not allergic!"

Boruto sighed dramatically, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. "Fine, I guess we can share." Yori smiled gratefully at him, and the two men shared the meal.

Boruto watched as Yori ate, his face always portraying his emotions. Just by looking at him, he could tell that Yori didn't like the broth but he liked the chicken. Boruto made sure that the brunette got more than his share of the chicken because he wanted to make the other man as happy as he could make anyone, even if it was as simple as giving him food he preferred. Yori smiled at him with a flush on his face, a gentle look in his soft brown eyes.

In that little shop, Boruto swore he felt something come alive inside of him.

After eating, the two walked slowly down to the inn that Yori was staying at. The mission was completed; Boruto had no reason to stay with the other man. He didn't want to leave, though, so he tried to walk as slow as possible down the street. Yori sent him a knowing smile, but he understood.

Somehow, Boruto felt like Yori would understand everything Boruto felt.

Boruto couldn't explain why Yori made him feel like this— like he was the most important person in the universe, like Yori would accept all of Boruto's faults and shortcomings where most others didn't, like he was worth something other than being the firstborn of the Seventh Hokage.

Even with their slow gait, the two ended up in front of the new inn that would be Yori's home for the next three weeks fairly quickly. The building was a cool blue, newly built after the destruction of the war of the previous generation.

Yori adjusted the olive pack on his back, looking toward the door. Boruto shuffled his feet on the ground, blushing. Neither knew how to say goodbye. They understood that their current relationship was supposed to be professional, but something lurked underneath the chests of them both, a tangible thing. Both were simultaneously scared and elated at the possibilities the future might bring.

Yori turned to the younger man and forced an obviously fake smile on his face. "Thank you, Sunshine. You really helped me out."

Boruto blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nah, I was just doing my job."

Yori smiled at the blond, the soft look back in his topaz eyes. In the fading light of the evening sun, Boruto became aflame, soul becoming pure gold.

The older man quickly made sure that no one was in spotting distance of the two and Yori slowly, ever so cautiously, reached out his arm and caressed his pink knuckles against the blonds' face. The brunette's nails caught against the soft flesh of his cheek and Boruto shivered a bit. He closed his eyes a bit, soft blond eyelashes kissing his tan cheek. His black and pink tracksuit ruffled in the soft wind that blew around them and Boruto knew.

"Do you think we're crazy?" Yori asked normally gruff voice soft and flexible, like the wind around them. He focused on the two whisker scars on Boruto's left cheek, too scared to look him directly in the eye. People said that with age comes courage, but they were liars. No one is courageous with their hearts, too scared of the trauma it means when someone doesn't stay.

"Maybe we are the sane ones and everyone else is just crazy," Boruto whispered to the man that he would leave behind, a smile on his face rising like the sun on a new day.

Yori had a fake contemplative look on his face, and then nodded. He drew himself away, fingers once again ghosting across the cheeks of the tan boy in front of him before completely pulling away. Boruto missed the electricity the touch gave him, and the warmth it had provided, and the completeness that tore his soul to ruin.

"Next time we won't meet as client and employee," Yuri promised, waving his pinky finger around before extending it to the young man. Boruto followed suit and linked their smallest fingers together, an awaiting agreement.

With one look at the blond haired blue eyed young man in front of him, he turned away and walked into the inn, closing the door behind him softly.

Boruto stood still and watched him leave, the world a soft yellow around him.

Boruto was being weird.

Okay, Boruto was always weird, but he was acting weirder than his normal.

His son had came into his office to report to him the status of his completed solo mission and instead of rushing out of the room as quickly as possible like the young blond normally did, he pulled out a portable game console from his pocket and sat in one of the seats in front of the Hokage desk and promptly played a video game. Quietly. For the past forty-five minutes.

Naruto half expected an argument to come from his son, the voice he loved so much usually spat poison tipped words at the older man, though in the past couple years Boruto started bottling things inside instead of starting as many wars with his father. Naruto couldn't tell which was worse; at least when Boruto was yelling at him he knew what was going on in the inner workings of his sons mind. Nowadays it was almost like his son was a stranger he passed everyday on the street.

Naruto was having trouble focusing on his paperwork, his son's presence a distraction, even when the boy was silent and stationary. Hinata always said that Boruto knew how to control a room.

"Boruto, not that I don't enjoy your presence and all, but why are you here?" Naruto asked, stressed, running his hands through his short blond hair. Not knowing why his son was here was driving him insane.

Boruto shrugged, hitting the yellow buttons on the game console probably harder than needed. "Can't a kid visit his good for nothing father at work every so often?"

"Boruto—," His father's stern voice warned. Boruto rolled his eyes.

"Why can't you believe I just want to visit you?"

Naruto raised a blond eyebrow at his son, making the younger blond squirm. He would absolutely love it if his son would visit him at work, just because the kid wanted to. Himawari sometimes did, his little sunflower lighting up his world with her smiles and laughter. Sometimes his lovely wife would visit him, and the only people that saw what they got up to when all alone were the framed Hokage pictures, and they wouldn't tell any secrets.

Boruto never visited the office unless he had to. Naruto knew deep down that Boruto still held some resentment toward the position of Hokage, so he avoided the room like he blamed it for his entire childhood ending bitter and alone.

Naruto tried a different approach.

"Boruto~! Tell me what's going on!"

His son kept playing his game, fighting the enemy to the best of his characters ability. "Now I know who Hima gets her nosiness from, cuz it sure isn't from mom."

"Boruto, tell me!" The Hokage pouted, blue eyes wide and shiny.

Boruto didn't even look up from his game. "You're the Hokage, show some more dignity than that."

Naruto full on pouted and the two had a stare down, bright blue eyes versus light blue eyes, trying to see who would crack first. After two minutes and thirty-eight seconds, Boruto finally cracked and looked at his hands. Internally, Naruto did a victory dance.

In one of the quietest voices Naruto has ever heard from his oldest child— probably the quietest voice he ever heard from either of his children—, Boruto asked: "Dad, what does being in love feel like?"

At the mention of love, Naruto sighed and became all heart eyed. Boruto nearly gagged at the love struck look on his father's face he always got when thinking about his wife.

"Being in love is like… Feeling alive whenever they're near. It's like feeling afloat whenever you think of them. It's wanting them to be happy in everything they do. It's wanting to have kids together because those kids are the perfect mix of you and the person you care about most in the entire world."

Naruto stared off to the East of the Hokage Tower, the direction he knew their home was in, and more importantly, the direction he knew his wife was in. Talking about being in love reminded him of his beautiful wife, whom he hadn't taken out on a date in months.

Naruto stood up so quickly it startled his eldest child. Naruto cast his son an apologetic look before rushing around to grab his Kage cloak and any paperwork he needed to bring home with him. Boruto stared at his father in confusion.

'What a weirdo,' He thought to himself.

"Sorry Bor," Naruto said, throwing the beige and dark red cloak over the shoulders of his orange shirt, and clasping the single button in the front. The blond quickly ushered his look alike out of the room. Boruto was so pushed by his father that the youngest male Uzumaki tripped over his own feet.

"D-dad! What gives!" Boruto stuttered out, his father holding on to the back of his shirt and lifting him up so he wouldn't trip again as he was being pushed. Boruto grumbled that his father could still man handle him around.

"I have to go and do something important."

"Don't you always?" Boruto muttered, bitter and angry. Naruto pretended like he didn't hear him.

"Don't get into any trouble now," Naruto said as he departed, a flash of leaves before he disappeared.

"Where the fuck did these leaves come from?" Boruto asked out loud.

Boruto was lying on his back on the plush couch, playing his favorite Death Valley Game, Death Valley IV: Escape from Evil, when the door bell rang. Boruto figured out someone else could get it; Boruto was too busy playing the game in Expert Mode and he kept getting stuck on the fifth level. Boruto cursed the villain and his entire family, the blue skinned freak.

"Boruto, could you get that?" Hinata called from the kitchen, soft voice carrying through the hallway.

Boruto scowled. "I'm kinda busy, Mom. Tell Himawari to get it!"

"I'm busy helping Mom!" Himawari's strong voice echoed from the kitchen. The young blond grumbled, but nonetheless paused his game to get up and stomp over to the door. Boruto was definitely going to die again this level because of this. He jerked the door open, a glare plastered on his face, to be greeted with…

His father on the porch, holding a bouquet of sunflowers.

Boruto became slightly concerned. "Um… you know you live here, right?" Boruto had heard that people with high stress lifestyles sometimes got amnesia because of all the stress and as the Hokage, his father had the most stressful job in the entire hidden village. "Or did you just forget your keys again?"

Naruto rolled his eyes at his son. "Just go and get your mom, slacker."

Boruto stepped out of the doorway and toward the kitchen. "Mom, some weirdo is at the door for you!" A blood vessel began to beat on the elder Uzumaki's forehead and he looked like he was getting ready to strike. Hinata poked her head down the hallway, dishtowel in hand drying off her wet hands. Boruto smirked, knowing his father wouldn't ever seek revenge in front of his mother, who could be scary when she wanted to be.

Hinata smiled when she noticed the weirdo was just her husband at the door. She approached the two blonds, her steps fluid and graceful, making her appear as if she was floating. She blushed when she saw the bouquet of sunflowers in her husband's capable, tan hands.

He thrust them at her. "Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman." Boruto gagged. Hinata blushed and giggled, rushing to put the flowers in a vase full of water. Boruto regretted being born.

"What are your intentions with my mother?"Boruto asked, skinny arms crossed, glare on his face. If his father was going to play schoolboy going on his first date, Boruto could act like the man of the house and watch over his mother's virtue.

Naruto pushed his son in the face, making him run into the wall behind him. Boruto sputtered in offense.

"Nata," Naruto called out, following her into the kitchen. He put his arms around her making her giggle in happiness, adjusting the vase of flowers on the granite kitchen counter.

"Hi, Daddy!" Himawari greeted her father warmly, jumping around on the balls of her feet, excited at the idea of life itself. The Uzumaki smile was permanently and honestly pinned to her face. Naruto leaned over to kiss his little girl on her pearl colored forehead. Himawari giggled and moved to keep stirring the soup on the stage.

"Nata," Naruto called out in a sing-song voice, "Let's go out on a date, just you 'n me." Naruto planted kisses all over the inches of his wife's face that he could reach.

Hinata giggled but looked sad. "But I'm almost finished with dinner…"

Naruto waved her concern away. "The kids can finish cooking. They're old enough now, I hope. We can eat the leftovers later."

Hinata hit her with those big blue puppy dog eyes. She sighed once before kissing his chakra scarred cheek.

"Alright," She glowed, "Himawari, take the soup off the stove when it's finished or it will burn. You and Boruto eat your fill before putting up the leftovers. Bolt: stay out of your sister's way and do not touch the stove."

"You got it, boss man," Boruto called from the kitchen table, pulling out his portable game console to restart the level he knew he was doomed to fail.

As his parents left the house to go on their first date in months, looks of pure joy etched on their faces, Boruto wondered if he would ever get a love like his parents. It was beautiful in its unconditionality, but that's where it was sad, too. They sacrificed so much for their partner's happiness he was afraid that one day it would destroy them.

Loving someone too much was dangerous, the power one could have over another person because of mere hormones in the brain.

In a way, Boruto was scared of love, because he has seen what it can do.

 **AN: Hey guys, look at me updating before Monday! I hope you like it! Yeah, I know it's a little weird that Boruto and Yori are so connected already, but when there's chemistry, ya just know.**

 **I know this chapter wasn't as angsty as the previous, but I hope I put enough in here. Sometimes there has to be fluff to make the angst stand out more.**

 **I don't know what I am going to write for the next chapter at all, but I will figure it out!**

 **Till next time : )**


	3. Chapter 3

The morning after their date, his father was eating breakfast at the kitchen table, a relic of the past. His mother was smiling widely as she made breakfast in the morning, a lightness in her movements. They had a simple breakfast of eggs and bacon before Naruto had to get up and go off to work. With a sad smile, he kissed his wife goodbye (which lasted for a little bit longer than their children really wanted the kiss to last, but Hinata giggled when he pulled away), and walked off out the door and into the rising sun, to go to his job that never waited.

Hinata watched her husband walk away and Boruto noted that she had this wistful look on her face that just killed him. She looked sad in her happiness. Boruto understood how one could feel both at the same time.

She knew, like her children knew, like the village knew, that husband and wife didn't have much time to be together, Naruto always entangled by his job. The older blond was hardly ever home, hardly ever around his family, spending all his time away and in the Hokage Tower. The Uzumaki parents would go on a date once every couple months, husband hardly having any time to call himself away from his job. He left his wife alone more often than not, a wife waiting patiently at home to welcome her husband home whenever he did so.

Boruto wonders if she ever regrets it, and thinks she must. Who would want to live a life where your husband has no time for you and has priorities above you? Maybe she even regretted him and Himiwari, two people that would keep her attached to him forever.

Boruto clenched his fist tight, and quickly excused himself from the table before he did something drastic, like break a plate or his mothers feelings. He planted a kiss on Himiwari's scarred cheek, and one on his mothers lightly lined forehead, and rushed out the door. He had training to get to.

He thought of taking a ride on the top of the train to get to the training grounds, but decided against it. He wasn't in the mood for that today.

He trudged through the streets filled with the regular morning crowd, large groups of people on their way to their jobs. Boruto wondered if they all thought the Hokage was a family man or if they understood all he gave up in order to protect the village. No one could understand the hell that position put them all through; a mother who had to wait and wait and wait forever only scraps of affection from her love, a son who could not tell anyone the last time his father spent time with him alone if Boruto hadn't initiated it first, and a daughter who pretended that everything was fine but every night when she set the table for four and only three sat down she acted with the feeling of something crucial being missing.

The people of the village Hidden in the Leaves didn't understand; they couldn't. They hadn't given up their father for the good of the village. They hadn't pretended to understand in the light of the day but stayed awake at night and thought 'maybe if I was a little bit better, my father would make more time for me'.

Parts of Boruto believed that his father had enough time for his family and only pretended to be so covered in paperwork that he didn't have time for anything else. He was scared that his father, somewhere deep down in the older man in a place he wouldn't even admit to himself existed, resented his family. Boruto knew that his father grew up an orphan and so desperately wanted a family of his home, one he could come home to and rely on.

Boruto has come to understand that sometimes dreams do not end up being how the dreamer wants them to be.

A sudden hand placed on his shoulder made him jerk and reach in to his kunai pouch before he was stopped by a sudden grip on his upper arm.

A familiar voice made him relax. "Boruto, relax, it's just your sensei!"

Boruto forced a fake smile on his face and Konohamaru smiled back, wide and blinding with closed eyes. Boruto was glad that his sensei wasn't the best on reading peoples' emotions; or maybe Boruto was too good at faking his happiness. He didn't know which would be worse.

"Ya know, it isn't good to have your head up in the clouds all the time," Konohamaru-sensei admonished, gripping the shoulder of the kid that used to call him 'nii-san'. Konohamaru missed those days when Boruto and Himiwari were little tykes that couldn't even walk yet and who used to light up when they saw their Konohamaru-nii-san. He was pretty sure that if Boruto had the opportunity, the blond boy would push him into the open mouth of a volcano.

Boruto swatted his sensei's hand from off his shoulder and Konohamaru pouted in the childish way of his.

Boruto got this far away look in his eyes, like he was seeing things that no one else around him could see. Konohamaru got concerned when Boruto got that look; he was always scared that Boruto would stray to a place that he couldn't bring the blond boy back from.

"Do you think love is worth it?" The question in and of itself caught the brunette off guard, causing him to miss a step and stumble a bit. Boruto continued on walking, not waiting for his sensei to catch up.

"What do you mean is love worth it? Worth what?" Konohamaru asked as he jogged to catch up to his student.

Boruto shrugged. "Like, is love worth everything that comes with it? The ups, the downs, the highs, the lows, and everything in between."

"Are your parents fighting again?" Konohamaru asked, concerned. When Boruto and Himiwari were little, Naruto and Hinata went through a little rough patch, constantly fighting. Well, their fighting was more like angrily training together, Naruto loudly arguing, and Hinata giving her husband the cold shoulder (Naruto could deal with yelling, but the cold shoulder did him in easily, especially when it was from the love of his life). Boruto had gone to his 'nii-san' with the concern of his parents fighting and he was plagued with the idea of his parents possibly getting a divorce. Konohamaru put a quick stop to that train of thought and forced Hinata and Naruto to get their crap together.

"I didn't know that my father was around long enough for them to fight," Boruto muttered, which earned him a swift smack to the back of his head.

"Your father has given up so much for this village; show him a little respect," Konohamaru growled out, defending his hero to his own son. Boruto rolled his eyes at the jonin, but kept his mouth shut overall.

Konohamaru sighed, rubbing his brown locks roughly. "Back to your question… Is love worth it? It depends on what it is and how much you love the person. Sometimes you date someone romantically for a long time but they end up not being the love of your life. You can't control your emotions and the length of time your with someone doesn't dictate how much you will end up loving them. I've seen people get married after two weeks of being together and they are still happily married. I've seen people be together for six years and they break up over something stupid, like a bento and they seem happier single than they had been at any point in their relationship." Konohamaru shrugged. He didn't really understand the ways of the heart.

"Do you have any personal experience?" Boruto asked, eyebrows wiggling. Konohamaru blushed violently and cuffed the chunin on the back of his head.

"Me and love never seem to work out. I would say that we are two strangers that never meet on the train."

"Are you trying to tell me you've never been in love before? You're like, what, thirty and never been in love?"

"Like you know anything about love. You have less experience with women than I do," Konohamaru shot back, a pout on his face. Boruto shrugged and nodded, Konohamaru was right. He probably didn't know _exactly_ how right he was, though.

Boruto ignored the opening he had gotten to open himself up to his sensei and instead decided to taunt him. "I don't know, Aunt Hanabi gets rather red faced when you're around… Hey, if you two get married you will become _uncle_ Konohamaru."

Konohamaru turned bright red and stutter, tugging at his blue scarf nervously. Boruto laughed and forced himself to forget about his issues with love.

After training, team Konohamaru decided to get some food. They were all sweaty, covered in twigs and dirt, and reeked and they decided to assault the noses of those around them and get lunch. No wonder a lot of civilians didn't like the village ninja— they were obnoxious, pretentious, and reeked.

They all decided to go to Ichiraku Ramen, Konohamaru wanting a taste of the past and his students really didn't care where they were taken as long as they were fed. Konohamaru cursed his students every time he looked into his wallet, which felt lighter and lighter as the days went on.

Konohamaru ordered Pork Ramen, Sarada chose her favorite Miso Ramen, and Boruto ordered Kagoshima ramen… Mitsuki, like always, didn't eat anything but sat there with a smile on his face.

Boruto waved around his chopsticks in the air, poking them at his blue haired friend. Sarada popped a vein in her forehead and quickly stole the wooden sticks from her tan teammate's hands. "I'm confused; do you eat? Or do you have a really strict diet? How does being an artificial human differ to being born the good ol' fashion way?"

Konohamaru swatted the back of his students' head for asking insensitive questions. Boruto grumbled and rubbed his head in defeat and reached his hands out to steal his chopsticks back from his female teammate. Sarada also wanted to know the difference between artificial humans and regular humans, but she let it go. Mitsuki would probably not answer the questions anyway, forever a mystery to his closest friends. Sarada thought it must be lonely to keep so much away from the two people that were supposed to always have your back.

Their ramen was placed in front of them with a flourish, a new waiter whose name Boruto already forgot smiling widely at them and telling them to enjoy before quickly running off. Konohamaru and Sarada quickly dug into their noodles while Boruto used his chopsticks to stir the fine noodles in the broth absentmindedly.

Konohamaru slurped up a noodle, spraying little droplets of broth across the table and on those surrounding him. Boruto wiped the droplets from his face. His sensei noticed that he wasn't digging into his food with the usual gusto he usually did. "Boruto, is everything alright? I know ramen isn't necessarily your favorite food, but you usually eat it. Is something wrong? You've been acting strange lately."

"How can you expect me to answer any question you ask when you throw so many at me?" Boruto angrily asked, stabbing the pork bits in his bowl and ripping them to shreds. Mitsuki studied him unblinkingly from across the table, unable to express the concern he had for the recent actions of his beloved sun.

Sarada glanced into her bowl, half empty in her after training calorie intake. She looked so sad, and Boruto knew it was because of him. It was always because of him. "We're worried about you. Something's wrong and you won't tell anyone. We care about you and you won't even share with us your problems."

Boruto turned his sadness into anger; he always knew how to deal with anger, but sadness stayed in his bones for years and years. He'd take anger over sadness any day. "Is this some sort of intervention?" He growled out, tight grip on his chopsticks causing him to crack them down the middle, wood splintering in his hands. He dropped them on top of the red tabletop, suddenly not hungry. He didn't like ramen that much anyway; it was always too salty for his preferences.

"Your actions on the last mission dictate we should give you one," Mitsuki stated, not looking away from the blonds' blue eyes. He noted that his words caused anger to flare up in the Uzumaki's eyes. He must have said something wrong.

"I'm not talking about it, end of discussion."

Konohamaru slammed down his chopsticks hard against the table top; when their sensei got angry for real, he meant business. All of his students had their heads down in submission, nervous about what he was going to say. "Boruto, the shit you pulled on the last mission could have caused you to die. Hell, you doing what you did could have could have put everyone else on the team in a dangerous situation."

Boruto sat in his seat, head down, tan fists clenched tight. He didn't look up at anyone and he didn't say anything. Konohamaru sighed; once his student put his walls up it was hard for anyone to break them down.

"Boruto, we only worry about you," Sarada said, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his wrist. Mitsuki smiled and nodded from his spot next to the ink haired Uchiha. Boruto jerked his hands away and slid out from the booth.

"I'm not hungry anymore," The eighteen year old muttered, throwing a couple bills on the table before assuredly stalking out of the ramen restaurant, a confident step in his walk. His teammates and sensei watched him walk away. Sarada looked downcast and Mitsuki wasn't portraying much emotion, though they all knew he was feeling similar to the girl of their group. Mitsuki was always sensitive to Boruto's feelings.

Konohamaru kept his eyes on the door, even minutes after the retreating figure of the blond. "We can't help him unless he wants it," The brunette adult reminded his group and himself as he turned around to face them all, twirling around the noodles in his soup, not necessarily hungry anymore but not willing to let Ichiraku ramen go cold. Sarada and Mitsuki nodded their heads in understanding and they all tried to ignore the hole in their group that fit Boruto's presence.

Boruto was mad and hungry and upset. He didn't want to go home to eat because he knew that if his mom saw him in the state he was in, then she would ask questions and he would give her answers he didn't really want to give. He was the only person who needs to carry the weight of his problems. He would not let anyone else be weighed down by them. It was his punishment to bear them alone.

Boruto was stumbling down the sidewalk, lost in thought, not really looking at where he was walking. He went with the flow of the crowd around him. Someone called out his name, a deep and oddly familiar voice, so Boruto jerked his head up from where it was looking at the cracked sidewalk when he walked and his blue eyes were met with the concerned topaz ones he saw in his dreams.

Boruto stopped and so did Yori, them breaking up the flow of the sidewalk, ignoring the dirty looks the strangers around him were shooting them.

Yori looked the blond up and down and then said, "Wow, you look like shit."

Boruto stilled at the unexpected sentence, and then he laughed. Most people had been treating him with kid gloves, like he was some glass figurine that would break if they breathed wrong near him. Yori was an outsider, one of the few people he interacted with that had not known him his whole life. He enjoyed the freshness Yori gave off and he caught himself wondering why all people couldn't be more like the older man.

"My entire team just ganged up on me for stupid reasons; you could say I feel like shit."

"Did you deserve to be ganged up on?" Yori asked, eyebrows raised. Boruto huffed out in frustration and started walking down the street again, Yori trailing behind him.

"Not you too," Boruto grumbled out, running his hands through his growing blond locks. He grunted when his fingers were caught on a small tangle that was hiding near the nape of his neck.

"Your friends are just concerned for you, and I'm starting to think they should be," Yori said, pressing his hands in his pockets. Boruto opened his mouth to tell the brunette that everyone should just stay out of his business because he didn't ask for them to be in it in the first place. Yori cut him off with a raise of the hand; long fingers catching Boruto's attention, making his mouth get dry. "However, I do not know your friends or the whole situation around them 'ganging' up on you, so I cannot properly figure out who is in the wrong here. Let's just get off the topic because you obviously are about to blow a gasket if we keep talking about this."

"At least you know when to move on," Boruto muttered, licking his lips. Yori watched his pink tongue trace the boy's lips, and he gulped. Boruto smirked when he saw the reaction the older man had when he did something as simple as lick his lips, it gave him a kind of high knowing that he could affect a man in such a way (especially since the man was Yori). Yori blushed when he noticed the younger male's smirk and Boruto swore his heart became lighter.

"You wanna get some lunch?" The older man asked, looking away from the Uzumaki boy as he spoke, the rose tint on his cheeks seemingly tattooed there. Boruto thought that his face was made for blushing; it complemented the man's skin tone so well. Yori turned to him and raised an eyebrow and Boruto realized he had taken too long staring at the older man and not answering him. It was Boruto's turn to blush a bright fire truck red, and Yori laughed at him, a heady thing.

"Are you ever going to answer me?" Yori asked, laughter catching. Boruto stuttered out a 'yes' and Yori smiled and grabbed his wrist and dragged him down a side street.

"Let's go to this restaurant I found down this way," Yori laughed as he led him to a barbeque restaurant on a side street. The building was a nice red color outside with a brown interior. They were sat down quickly by an uninterested waiter who didn't even tell them his name. Yori was too distracted by the beautiful aura Boruto was giving off to notice the waiter's standoffishness.

They quickly ordered pork and Boruto noticed that it was one of those barbeque restaurants where the costumers cook the meats at their tables. Chouchou and her dad loved going to these kinds of restaurants and Boruto made a mental note to bring his darker friend to this restaurant whenever he ran into her next. He hadn't hung around her in a while; he should make more of an effort to see the friends that weren't in his team.

The waiter unceremoniously set down the plate full of uncooked meat on the table and darted away as quick as he possibly could. Boruto grabbed a slice of meat and placed it on the small grill in the middle of the table, the meat a familiar sizzle to his ears.

Yori leaned his light face in his hands. "How come no waiter has given us drinks either time we went out? How am I supposed to have a good date when I am parched?"

Boruto stilled, all his fears on love from the beginning of the day resurfacing. "Is this what this is, a date?" He began breathing heavy and he felt slightly light headed.

Yori stilled as he was reaching his chopsticks over to grab a piece of raw beef. Boruto unfroze as he smelled his meat starting to burn on the grill, flipping it over shakily. Yori placed his next to the others on the grill, meat a vibrant red in comparison to Boruto's charcoal over cooked piece. "It is a date only if you want it to be one." Yori watched as Boruto nervously pulled of the piece of beef before it was ready to get off the grill. Boruto didn't even eat it; he just stabbed it nervously with his wooden utensils. "I'm sorry if I read all the signs wrong, I thought it was mutual." Boruto looked up to see the defeated image of Yori in front of him, shoulders down and head bent foreword.

Boruto was quick to reassure him. "No, no, no, you've got it all wrong; I am interested. I just have some… problems with the concept of love and romance."

"Don't we all?" Yori asked as he flipped his piece of beef on the grill, perfectly browned on one side.

"It just never works out right," Boruto muttered, running a hand through his blond locks. Yori looked into the beautiful blue eyes of the boy who was quickly holding his heart. Yori wondered if he would ever be able to get it back.

"Even if it doesn't work out all happy go lucky, isn't it worth it that it made you happy, even for a little while? Sometimes it's not about the ending, sometimes it's about the journey," Yori said as he checked the bottom side of his beef slice (which looked perfect) before reaching over the grill and placing it on the plate of his date. Boruto blushed, then looked at the beef, then looked at Yori, then back at the beef, then back at Yori. Yori gave him a soft smile and Boruto pushed all the doubt he had about love from watching the deteriorating relationship of his parents deep down inside him. He wouldn't let his doubts of the future affect the now.

Boruto lifted the beef slice that Yori had cooked for him to his mouth and popped it in, blushing at the wide grin Yori had on his face.


	4. Chapter 4

Boruto walked Yori back to the inn he was staying in, the soft light of the setting sun creating a romantic ambiance of Konoha's near empty streets. Yori noted that there was more bars and pubs than restaurants and stores. The brunette wondered if it was like this in all ninja villages or just Konoha. The shinobi must need the surge of alcohol to get over bad missions. Taking someone's must kill a part of you, too.

Yori forced the thought from his mind.

The walk to the inn was a mostly silent one, the two just enjoying being in each other's presence. The restaurant was close to the inn he was staying at (that's how he had found it in the first place) so it was a relatively short walk. Both men wished it would have gone on forever.

The inn was at the corner of two streets with a broken street light above. Boruto pushed his lover into that corner, away from the hungry eyes of the villagers that might stumble around them. The people of Konoha were big gossips, especially about the Hokage's family. He didn't need a rumor going around about the sexuality of the Hokage's troublemaking son, even if they would be true. His father would kill him.

"I walked you home; does that make me the man in this relationship?" Boruto teased, bringing a hand to his lover's cheek and grazing it with the back of his hand. Yori turned his face to follow the fingertips, nipping at them. Boruto laughed at the silly antics of the thirty four year old man in front of him. Some days, Yori acted more childish than him.

"If I wanted a woman in this relationship, I would have went after one," Yori grumbled out, grabbing onto the blonds' belt loops suddenly and pulling him flush against the man. Boruto blushed at the action, but didn't pull away. He quite enjoyed the warmth of Yori against his front.

Boruto leaned down to kiss the older man (Yori was only three inches smaller than his younger counterpart and he loved it and hated it at the same time) and they got lost in themselves on that darkening street in Konoha. The shadows around them became one with the darkness of the night.

Konoha was a bit odd in regards to homosexuality. The Village Hidden in the Leaves was progressing quickly into the modern era with the influx of technology, but some things kept them back in a more traditional style. Because of the many clans that made up the village and the stress they put on passing on their Kekkei Genkai to the next generation to insure that their bloodline continues on, the topic of homosexuality has not been accepted among with modern technology.

Open homosexuals were not beaten, they were not harassed; however they could be kicked out of their clans and erased from the family tree. Gay marriage was also a thing that was not legal.

Civilians tended to be more open minded than the shinobi due to them not having any Kekkei Genkai to pass on. Boruto sometimes wished he had been born to a civilian couple and that he couldn't practice ninjistu. Maybe then he wouldn't have to hide himself as much as he did now.

Among the shinobi ranks, Boruto could only identify one openly gay relationship and that was Imuzo Kamizuki and Kotetsu Hagane. No one minded them because they had been together for so long— as friends, partners, and life partners. The blond knew if word got out about his affair with a visiting civilian from another village, the people of Konoha would make up a fuss like no tomorrow.

The easiest thing was to keep his feelings for Yori hidden. Did Boruto enjoy living a life of a lie? No, but sometimes that was the only option one had.

Boruto turned over in bed and faced his poster of Kagemasa on his wall that was near the door to his room. Boruto wondered why people thought he was straight when he had a very large poster of a man on his wall and a very large, very well known crush on the character. Really, he wasn't doing much hiding. People only saw what they wanted to see. It was unfortunate that they wanted to see him as straight.

Boruto huffed and wiggled his head deeper into his pillow indent. He remembered when he had first figured out that he wasn't like other boys. When Inojin and Shikadai hit puberty, they started talking about girls and having crushes on them (Inojin had had a small crush on Sarada for two months and Shikadai had a crush on the same girl since he was sixteen and he refused to tell Boruto who it was; Boruto had half a thought that the young Nara heir had a crush on his mother). Of course, Metal had had a crush on Chouchou since the academy days, and that had turned out well for him in the end when he finally got over his anxiety and said yes when Chouchou asked him out.

With puberty came hair and odor and Boruto's face transforming into a bright red color when his male friends took off their shirts during training. He really didn't know how the other guys couldn't tell he was attracted to males.

Even before puberty, Boruto knew he didn't like girls as much as his friends did. He always preferred hanging with his male classmates than his female ones and he wasn't entranced by their long hair and kind smiles. At first he thought it was because he was used to the wicked way of girls from his baby sister turning on her Girl Charm on him and his father to always get her way, but as he got older he understood that he just wasn't drawn to girls like that.

Some days, when it was dark and lonely and being alone was too much, he wished he was sexually and romantically attracted to women; Sarada and him would've been great together.

As he aged, the loneliness got worse, like a frozen stone somewhere deep in his heart. His friends started pairing off and he was left alone, not able to be open with his friends and family about the men he would date.

It saddened him that there would always be a side of him that he would have to hide from his friends and family, the people that were supposed to love him despite his faults. Hell, they were supposed to love him because of his faults because he was human in his err.

Boruto grasped his hair tight, making it stick every which way. He would be getting no sleep tonight. That was nothing new for someone whose thoughts haunt them like ghosts in attics.

It had been three days since Boruto had last seen his beloved and he felt like he was going through withdrawals.

'Get a drip on yourself, you weirdo, you have only known him for about a week. It won't do you any good getting dependent on those chocolate eyes or those delicate arms or even that captivating face,' Boruto thought to himself as he was lying on his living room couch, arms thrown out, body like a star fish. His face was bright red with thoughts of Yori and he sighed, a longing thing.

"Why are you acting so weird?" Himawari asked as she peeked over the back of the couch to look at her older brother. Her long blue hair was up in a messy bun since she was just lounging around the house all day, but since her elder brother was acting weird she might just go up to her room and pretend like she was an only child.

Boruto didn't even open his eyes. He was used to Himawari being around and seeing him do weird stuff; she saw all sides of him he never wanted to show other people. That's siblings for ya.

"Go away, Hima, can't a guy be weird in his own home?" Boruto said as he made a shooing motion with his hands, trying to get his little sister to leave him alone with his thoughts. Thinking about Yori was about the only time he wanted to be alone with them. Usually they haunted him and destroyed him.

Himawari huffed and blew the loose strands around her face up, annoyed when they fell in exactly the same place they were before. "Big brother, why don't you love me?" Himawari pouted and jumped over the back of the couch, landing in a 'huf!' next toher brother on the couch. Boruto pushed her away as she was practically in his lap.

"Hima, give me some space, damn," Boruto growled out. "Also, mom hates it when you jump over the couch." Himawari rolled her eyes and scooted a centimeter away from her old brother on the couch, thighs no longer touching. Boruto sighed and accepted it because ehe knew that was all she would give.

The two Uzumaki's sat in silence next to each other, both lost in thought. Boruto was thinking about Yori and Himawari was thinking about Boruto.

"Nii-chan," Himawari started, biting her bottom lip, "How come you don't talk to me anymore?"

Boruto looked at his baby sister from the corner of his cerulean colored eyes. She sat upright, hands clenched on her knees. Boruto suspected that this was something that his sister had wanted to bring up to him for some time, but never had the opportunity to before.

"Baby sister, I talk to you all the time," Boruto forced a smile on his face and prayed that it threw the blue haired girl off of his trail. Himawari gave him a glare that told him she was not sold. He cursed the girl for having their mother's brains.

"You know what I mean, Bolt." Boruto winced at his family nickname being spoken in such a pointed way, hitting him directly in his heart. Himawari always knew where to hit him where it would hurt the worst. He guessed it was a sibling thing.

Boruto used his thumbs to crack the knuckles on all of his other fingers, the pop-pop-poping noise bringing him out of his mind space. Boruto looked over at his little sister, the first friend he ever had, and took a sharp intake of breath when he noticed the defeated look on her face. He looked at the girl next to him— no, the woman next t him; Himawari was sixteen now, she was no longer a girl—and thought maybe, just maybe, she would understand. They shared the same blood after all. Maybe they shared the same mind.

Boruto began tapping his calloused fingertips against the soft cotton blue pajama bottoms covering his knobby knees and opened his mouth to speak. "Hima… Do you ever get sad for no reason?"

Himawari looked puzzled. "When you're sad, isn't there always a reason?"

Boruto shook his head and tried again, suddenly desperate in his attempt to find someone that understood. "It is a sudden thing and it hits you when you least expect it, the sadness. Like, when you're with all your friends and you're happy and then you're just suddenly sad and you don't have a reason _not_ to be happy, but for some reason despite all the happiness around you, you can't feel it inside. It's like the happiness around you isn't meant for you, it's like you don't _deserve_ to be happy in any way."

Himawari's bright blue eyes got glassy with tears. She had always been easily moved to tears. "Big brother, I don't understand; is that how you feel?"

Boruto sighed, a guilty feeling heavy on his heart. Of course Himawari wouldn't understand. Yori may call Boruto 'Sunshine' but the real sunshine of the Uzumaki family was Himawari. Himawari, who always smiled; Himawari, who always lent a helping hand to their mother in anything she needed; Himawari, who brought bouquets of wild flowers to her father's office and decorated his desk with them. Himawari was the heart and soul of their family, she was their happiness.

He was heavy with the thought of Himawari now having to bear the load of his problems on her shoulders. As the older brother, it was his duty to lessen her problems, not create them.

"Sometimes," Boruto answered, not looking at her. He noticed the plants outside the living room window dance in the breeze and was suddenly jealous that of all creations he could have been born as, he had to be human. Human, with their problems, and their err, and their sins.

The blond boy continued on, as if unable to stop himself even though he really wanted to. "Sometimes there is a reason, but it stays longer than it should, and it runs deep. It scares me sometimes, Himawari. Even when I try to get myself out of my slump, I just dig myself deeper."

Sniffles came from his sister and Boruto was too occupied in his own mind to even look at her. He just kept staring out the window, watching the breeze tease the natural world outside.

"Why haven't you told mom or dad?" Himawari's voice was soft and weak and Boruto hated it, hated that he made her feel like that.

"What can they do about it?" Boruto bit out, suddenly angry. "All the knowledge will do is make them sad. I've already hurt them too much in my life; I refuse to add more weight on their souls."

"So you're going to endure it alone?"

Boruto brought his left hand close to his face and started ripping the hangnail off his thumb. "I've made it this far alone, what's stopping me from continuing?"

Himawari reached over and gripped her brother's tightly clenched fist. Botuo met her eyes, the same blue as his, a lighter and brighter shade then their own fathers. Boruto wished sometimes that his mother's genetics ran stronger in his DNA, tired of being a replica of his old man. Maybe if he looked more like his angelic mother, people would stop putting so much pressure on him. Or maybe there would still be pressure on him, eldest son of the Hyuuga heiress.

Himawari's blue eyes shone brightly with determination. Boruto was suddenly struck with the image of their father, and, strangely enough, Sarada Uchiha. She tightened her grip on his fist and Boruto unclenched his hand so she could instead lace her little fingers between his own.

"From now on, I will be there with you so you don't have to be alone." Himawari's voice was strong. She believed every word she said.

Boruto smiled at his baby sister, a melancholy thing. "Some things you can't fix or help, sister dear."

Himawari scowled an odd sight on her usually happy face. "Dad says that if you put your mind to anything and try you're hardest, then you can succeed in anything."

"And whatever dad says is the truth, huh?" Boruto asked with a sneer on his face, lips pulled back, (mostly straight) teeth on display.

Himawari sighed and pulled away from her brother, standing up from her spot on the white couch, making her way back to her room. "Boruto, I still don't understand you."

"That makes two if us," Boruto said as he stared back at his jagged nails, trying not to feel the cold loss of his sister at his side.

That evening, Hinata had sent her eldest on a mission to the market to get some green onions for that night's dinner. Boruto was so bored that he didn't even complain a little bit when she forced him out the door with a piece of paper that had only two words on it.

She would never let him forget that one time he was sent to the market for tomatoes and he came home with bags full of candy instead. It's been four years, let it go already. He's grown more as a person since then.

Boruto patted his front pocket to make sure that the money his mother gave him was still on his person. He had a bad habit of losing money.

Boruto was in the market, stalls of vendors lining both sides of the street. The stalls were open with people advertising their wares loudly and proudly. The smell of dirt and bread and sweets was in the air. Boruto always liked the outside vendors because it felt like he was in a different place than the now modern Konoha. Grocery stores had started popping up more and more throughout the village, but Boruto preferred the feel of the market to the harsh lighting of the indoor stores.

Boruto was fondling tomatoes at a stall when a familiar presence came up beside him. He could tell it was Yori by the smell of his cologne, a fresh scent that reminded Boruto of the air after a downpour in springtime. He also smelled vaguely of smoke and Boruto made mental note to ask later if the older man smoked.

"Hello, Sunshine, my Sunshine," Yori greeted, voice gruff and song-like. Boruto smiled and turned to his beloved. Yori greeted him with a delicate smile that lit Boruto's heart on fire. The blond frowned a bit when he noticed the dark circles under the older man's eyes that aged him at least five years.

"Not getting enough sleep, huh?" Boruto asked, placing the tomato down on top of the others. He needed to keep his mind on what he came to the market for: green onions.

Both men moved on to the next stall, one of fresh breads. Yori automatically looked at a loaf of rye while Boruto purchased a cheddar cheese loaf. The twelve year old selling the bread popped her gum as she gave the blond his change, and then quickly went back to reading her manga.

"Work has been a bitch lately," Yori sighed as the two walked farther down the rows. They stopped by the next stall, one selling glass trinkets. Boruto eyed an opaque glass panda that Himawari would love. Her birthday wasn't any time soon, but sometimes he liked to leave little gifts for his sister in her room and pretend he didn't know how they got there. Yori was looking at a tiny see through glass figurine of a bunny, smaller than the palm of his hand.

"Oh yeah," Boruto nodded at the remembrance that Yori was only in town for a business conference. He didn't want to think about the numbered days they had left together, it would only bring him down and right now he was feeling afloat. "What exactly do you do at the gaming company thing?"

Yori laughed. "You mean Garse Inc. How could you forget the company that makes your beloved Death Day III: Revenge of the Dead?"

Boruto laughed and rolled his eyes. "Oh, you're right, how could I ever forget?" The two shared a laugh and Boruto loved that twinkle in the corner of his brown eyes where the afternoon light hit just right.

Yori gave the shop keeper money for the tiny glass bunny, exchanging a small smile with the tiny old woman who ran the stand. He slipped the glass bunny into his front pocket of his jeans. Boruto wondered why he denied the stand keeper's offer of a bag to carry it in. A pocket doesn't sound very safe to carry glass with.

They moved on to another stand, not really interested in anything, just for something to do.

Yori smiled fondly at the blond next to him, and then let out a tired huff of air. "I make the character designs for a lot of Garse games. Me and a team of designers at the company quarters in Getsugakure debate over character designs for weeks, and then I have to travel all the way to Konoha and try and sell the character designs and budget to a bunch of suits who don't understand the heart and soul of creating a characters and the art behind it and who only want to debate with me over things they don't understand."

Boruto laughed at the disgruntled brunette next to him and led them toward a stand that was selling fruits and vegetables. His mother would literally kill him if he didn't get what she had asked for.

"It sounds like you're passionate about it. Do you actually do any of the drawing?"

"Sometimes. It's mainly we all have ideas of characters in our minds and we kinda just mesh them all together to make something we are all happy with. I am the department head so I am usually the one with the final say. I also have to stop artists from fist fighting each other in the work place. Sometimes, though it's very rare, someone comes up with a character we all love on the first try." Yori looked at Boruto as he searched through piles of green onion to find the perfect one for his mother. "I usually get away with putting whole characters in without a big fuss, as long as they're a background character. Kulea from Death Day IV is based off of my daughter."

Boruto froze when the mention of offspring. He turned stiffly toward the brunette, who didn't read the atmosphere change around them, humming to himself as he purchased pears.

"You have a kid?"

"Yup," Yori said, popping the 'p'.

"You're MARRIED?"

The brunette held his hands up in a defensive pose, finally understanding what was going on. Boruto was mad because he was now thinking that he was a side piece, something to mess around with in a different village where his wife won't hear about it. Someone to be forgotten when he went back home.

"I don't know how you guys do it in Konoha, but in Getsugakure when you knock a girl up you don't have to marry her anymore. Women don't need husbands to run a house and raise a child. Women are strong and capable and they can do whatever they set their mind to. Me and my baby girl's mom was a real short relationship. We knew nothing was really going to come out of it between us, at least not marriage. We broke up during her pregnancy. Me and the baby mama are really good friends, though. I live just down the street from them so I see them about once a week or so."

Boruto nodded, a sigh of relief exhaling from his ink lips. He blushed in shame for having jumped to conclusions. Yori laughed and waved his hands.

"No harm, no foul. I like to make characters out of the people I love. It immortalizes them somehow. Like, in seventy years, they're going to be all dead and gone, but those games? They will have them forever. Probably unplayable and either in a collection or a dump, but it is the thought that counts."

Boruto sent the brunette a flirty smile, then bumped his bony hip with his own. "Does that mean I'm going to get a character made of me in Dead Day V?"

Yori laughed, eyes turning into 'u's. He ran a hand through his brown hair and Boruto noted that at the temples, there was a barely noticeable hint of grey in the strands.

"Only time will tell."

Boruto and Yori smiled at each other, a secret sort of smile that only the two of them would understand.

Boruto quickly paid for the green onions and they went their separate ways.

It was the next evening when Naruto called Team Konohamaru to his office. Boruto vibrated beneath his skin, ready for a new assignment. It had been a long time since he had gone on a challenging mission and he was ready for one. His soul was calling for it.

Boruto was the last one to arrive in his fathers' office. He wasn't late, but Mitsuki and Sarada had a habit of arriving to appointments early. Boruto preferred not to be rushed.

When he walked in the room, he greeted everyone with a "yo" and a large smile, like his fathers genin sensei. Konohamaru laughed, a quick thing; Sarada huffed at his arrival; Mitsuki gave him a smile and said nothing, slightly robotic.

Boruto noted his father looked taken aback to see him, as if he didn't expect his son to come when he called for Team Konohamaru. Boruto was suddenly anxious, his stomach in knots. He tried to will it away, even though that had never worked before.

Konohamaru smiled brightly and turned toward his self proclaimed older brother. "Boruto is here now, so you can go on with the mission assignment, Hokage-same."

Naruto sighed wearily and ran a large hand through his short hair. Boruto noted that the Hokage cap was on a hook near the entrance of the office and the robes were draped over the back of his father's olive chair. Boruto knew nothing good for him would come out of his father's mouth.

"Boruto, you cannot go on this mission."

An intense rage coursed through Boruto's veins. Konohamaru's shoulders sank, expecting a knock down drag out fight between father and son to commence at any time. He was right.

Boruto rushed up to his father's desk and slammed both scarred hands down onto the dark wood surface, the wind from his action rustling the edges of papers near his hands.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Language," His father warned. Boruto ignored him, like he tended to do.

"You took me off medical leave last week! I'm on light duty, I can do the mission!"

Naruto leaned back in his chair and held up his hands. "Calm down, Bolt." The command made Boruto angrier somehow. Naruto continued on, face slightly contorted in barely contained anger. Konohamaru knew this would not end well for either Uzumaki. "If you would take a second to think for once, I put you on light duty. Light duty means you can only go on missions around the village. I am sending the rest of your team to a C ranked mission in the Land of the Waves."

Boruto crossed his arms angrily; pink and black track jacket rustling as he did so. "Then why don't you just take me off light duty? Reinstate me with my team so I can go on this mission." His voice was demeaning, as if he thought his father was too stupid to think of doing something as simple as reinstating his son.

Naruto rose to his feet in a swift motion. "Don't use that tone of voice with me, son."

"I thought in the Hokage office I wasn't your son?" Boruto sneered. Naruto softened, shoulders slumping. The onlookers in the room felt a sense of pity for their normally strong Kage. No one understood how this volatile boy came from two of the nicest people in Konoha. Himawari was nice and understanding, but Boruto had the temperament of a young Sasuke who believed the whole world was out for him.

"You're always my son, wherever we are."

"Then reinstate me!" Boruto demanded, stomping his feet like a child throwing a tantrum.

That set the Nanadaime off.

"Stop acting like a child! You won't get everything you ask for because you're my child! You demanding your job back makes me want to never give it back. I need rational, level headed ninja out there on missions and you're starting to prove to me that you are neither," Naruto growled out, tan fists clenched. "You haven't even confessed the reasons behind your actions on the last mission you had with your team. Do you remember that one? The one you almost died on?"

Konohamaru stepped between father and son and held his hands up. It felt like all he had been doing since Boruto was born was being the in-between for the two blonds. The brunette pleaded, "Why don't we all take a deep breath and calm down before we say something we regret."

There was a pause in the air and the jonin in the room was led to believe that the blonds would back off each other. Boruto would walk away and go home and Naruto would dismiss the rest of the team on a mission to another country. 'Since I'm fantasizing, why not make the two never fight again and world peace will last for eternity,' Konohamaru scoffed to himself.

Another beat of silence passed and everyone in the room was led into a false sense of security. Naruto sat back down into his plush olive chair, evening out his breath. Mitsuki and Sarada relaxed their stances from the high strung slightly defensive stance the argument between father and son led them to hold. Konohamaru stepped back to stand beside his student, the one he has known since he was born, a little ugly red thing with bright sunshine hair. He gripped his shoulder, amazed at how that baby grew up to be this capricious young man beside him.

Naruto wondered when his little baby boy— the one who used to hold on to him tight after he arrived from long missions away, the one who used to demand him to read bedtime stories, the one who would put on his flak jacket and pronounce that he was going to be exactly like his father, the one who hugged him every day when he got home from work, the one who would always try to hitch a ride on his father's broad shoulders—became the angry adult in front of him, bitter and resentful toward one of the people who gave him life.

Some days Naruto wondered what life would have been like if he turned down the offer to become Hokage and focused on his family instead. It hurt him to think about, so he tried not to. Sometimes it snuck in his thoughts, late at night when he was still in the office and his family was at home without him, when he couldn't remember the last time he told his wife he loved her much less kiss her or hold her, and sometimes when he passed his children in the street as a stranger to both of them.

Kakashi-sensei hadn't warned him about this aspect of Kagehood, but Kakashi didn't have a family at home waiting for him. Neither did Tsunade. Hiruzen Saratobi's own children were grown when he took the hat again after the fall of the Fourth. Naruto wondered that if his father and mother would have lived, would he be like Boruto and hate the position of Hokage because it would have taken his father away from him? Or would he have been understanding like Himawari, waiting patiently for any scrap of affection his father had time to give out?

He would never know.

As Naruto was about to apologize to his son for his outburst, the younger blond spoke up.

"I regret not coming home in a body bag," Boruto's vice was strong and unwavering. His blue eyes kept contact with his father's own blue eyes, as if they were the only two beings in the room. "I regret being born. Most of all, I regret being your son."

With that, Boruto walked out the room and down the hall and out the building, steps not faltering at all.

He left behind two shocked chunin teammates, a stammering Konohamaru, and a heartbroken Hokage.

A soft knock from the door called Yori to it. He barely heard it from his location on the balcony. The brunette quickly shoved what he was holding into the night stand. He wondered why his room had a balcony when all it faced was the dark alleyway between the two inns.

He opened it to reveal the face of his favorite blond. Yori smiled brightly.

"Have you finally came here to seduce me? I've been waiting." The blond laughed but it sounded sad and forced. He noted that the blonds' normally youthful faced looked aged and weary.

Yori stepped to the side and let his Sunshine into the room. Boruto walked over to the freshly made bed and collapsed onto it, head first.

"I fucked up, Yori," Boruto muttered, words muffled into the pillow. Yori sat on the bed next to the blond, legs crossed beneath him. He was used to muffled pillow talking, having a child of his own.

"What did you do this time, Sunshine?"

Boruto groaned. "God, you sound exactly like my old man. I don't know if I'm more fucking angry or more fucking sad."

Yori kept quiet.

"He made me so mad tonight, Yori. So mad. I don't think I've ever been that mad at him before. And he didn't deserve it; he was right. He's always right. Me, I'm the one that's always wrong. I'm fucked up. I said some fucked up shit to him tonight, baby, and I don't think I can ever take that back, ever recover from that."

Yori placed a comforting hand on the lower back of his baby. "The first step is to apologize. He's your father, and from what I hear a good man with a forgiving heart. He will accept the apology."

"He told me I was acting like a child tonight," Boruto turned over to face the brunette, and moved so his head was laying in the older man's lap. Soft unscarred fingers started running through long blond hair and Boruto closed his eyes. "It infuriated me. I hate when he acts all high and mighty." Boruto was starting to get mad again thinking about it all. "Basically said he knew what's best for me; that infuriated me more. He barely even knows me."

Yori caught his fingers on a tangle and softly extracted them before lodging them into another strand of golden blond. He noticed the blonde had streaks of dishwater blond in his hair, along with the gold strands.

"Were you acting like a child? Cuz it's starting to seem like you were."

Boruto ignored Yori's question and instead climbed into the older man's lap. He didn't want to think about his father anymore.

Blue eyes met soft brown ones. Boruto leaned down to kiss his lover, a soft and gentle thing. His emotions were everywhere and he didn't know what he was feeling anymore. He just knew he wanted to feel Yori. Yori made everything better.

He began kissing down the soft expanse of the brunette's neck. Yori hummed beneath him. Boruto bit down hard when his lips met the junction of throat and shoulder. Yori jerked beneath him and breathed out a growl, hips jerking up into Boruto's. Bortuo's entire body felt alight at the friction.

He reached down to lift off Yori's soft cotton shirt. Yori let him, kissing him afterward. The blond's hands wandered over the space of his chest, amazed at how scar less the white skin was. Boruto was always so used to seeing scars on his own skin and his comrades' that it was entrancing to see a civilian without a shirt on. They never had battle scars, their skin not a graveyard for past mistakes.

Boruto noted a small tattoo on his left hip; the room was too dark to see what it was of. When his hands followed the trail of dark hair from his navel to the metal button on the older man's jeans, Yori pulled his hands away. Boruto whined deep in his throat, high pitched and needy.

"No, Sunshine. Not like this. Not when you're still mad and sad and a mess of emotions. You deserve better than a distraction."

Boruto fell out of the lap he was sitting in, bouncing slightly on the hotel bed, understanding where Yori was coming from. A large part of Boruto agreed; it would be his first time and he didn't need the shadow of his fight with his father hanging over him, ruining it.

Yori scooted off the bed and searched through the bedside table. Boruto took the time to look around the inn room. It was a small room with a Queen sized bed covered in blue sheets. The walls were a soft beige and the nightstands and the dresser were a light honey oak color. The room didn't have a television, showing its age. Yori's room as a whole was impersonal and practical. Perfect for someone who wasn't planning on staying long.

Boruto noted that Yori had his dirty clothes all over the floor and a line of cute trinkets lining the top of his dresser. From his space on the bed, the blue eyed man noted that all the trinkets were of rabbits.

"Bunnies, huh?"

"Shut your mouth," Yori warned, face blushing. Boruto laughed, a high pitched twinkling thing that probably lasted longer than it should have.

Yori finally found what he was looking for and motioned for Boruto to follow him. They walked out onto the balcony. Boruto sat on the stone ground, forcing his legs through the bars, dangling six stories above the ground. Boruto stared at one of the walls of the alleyway, looking at its unclean surface. Yori sat down next to him, criss-cross, his bony ankles digging into the cement floor below.

Boruto noticed that Yori was holding something that looked like a cigarette, but when the older brunette lit it, it did not have the same smoke smell that the cigarettes Shikadai's father smoked sometimes.

"Are you smoking weed?" Boruto asked, confused. As he was a shinobi, as were all of his friends, he had never really been introduced to drugs. Shinobi were really into keeping their bodies in peak performance and drugs didn't equal peak performance.

"Yep. Wanna hit?" Yori asked, holding out his hand in offering.

Boruto sat there and looked at it for a few seconds. Then he reached out and took it from his lover. "Already broke my dad's heart tonight, let's see how much more he can take."

 **Soooo this chapter was sooooo long. I'm not planning on making drugs a big lot point in this fic, but it could happen. Prolly won't tho. Mainly, the drugs were so that Yori didn't seem so damn all knowing and perfect.**

 **I have some issues with this chapter, like I don't necessarily like the Himawari part but I like it? I'm leaving it in, fuck it.**


	5. Chapter 5

Boruto didn't know if it was the weed or it was Yori, but sitting there on the uncomfortable concrete overhang, Boruto felt as if nothing could touch him. He felt complete in a way that he had never felt before in his life. The blond wondered if this was how most people felt on the regular, at peace with themselves and their place in the universe. It was a nice experience; he wondered how he could make it happen more often.

They were now lying down on the harsh feeling concrete, legs dangling between cold metal bars, weightless to the ground. The buildings might have been too close to each other to have seen much of anything around them, but when they faced upwards, they could see every star.

Shoulders, arms, thighs— they were touching in the most simple, most innocent way and it felt like neither had ever been alone in their entire lives because all they felt was this moment, with its heavy weight and its completeness.

What was left of the joint was dying on the floor next to the brunette, embers burning out, one single trail of smoke still coming from the thing. Boruto would always associate the smell of weed with the calming presence of his honey.

Yori turned over to look at the blond beside him and Boruto dragged his eyes away from the stars after the brown eyed man kept staring at him.

"Why are you looking at me?" Boruto laughed and brushed a strand of his hair out of his face.

Yori smiled at him and turned on his side so his entire body was facing his sunshine. "I've always had a problem with staring at the sun."

Boruto groaned, his face blushing brightly and easily seen even in the darkness surrounding them. He scrubbed his face in his hands and groaned louder. "I HATE you."

Yori smiled widely, the scar on his upper lip stretching. "No you don't. No you don't."

Boruto reached out and touched the small scar on Yori's lip. It was intimate in the oddest way. "Do you ever wish that your scars never happened? That we never had permanent reminders of our past mistakes?"

Yori closed his eyes, eyelashes lightly kissing, and leaned into Boruto's touch. He lightly kissed the fingertips on his lips and Boruto let him. "How else would we learn, Sunshine? Scars won't let us forget our mistakes."

Boruto grinned at the man next to him, turning to lie on his side like Yori was, both facing each other. He traced the thin lips of his older man and then he pulled them away, fingertips tingling like they had fallen asleep. "What was the thing you learned from the scar on your lip?"

Yori laughed a deep and strong thing that made the young blond tingle all over. Yori didn't laugh enough for his liking.

"I learned that my brothers' are little bitches and I should never trust them." Boruto laughed and Yori joined in with him. When they eventually ran out of laughter, they just stared into each other's eyes, not needing to speak, only needing to be around the other.

After minutes of silence, Yori spoke.

"How ya feeling, Sunshine?"

Boruto did not say anything in response, just leaned forward and kissed the brunette. When the older man reached a hand up to grip the soft jaw of the younger man, Boruto wished he would grip hard enough to leave bruises. Boruto wanted any physical reminder of Yori on his skin.

Eventually the night sky became too dark and the cold set in, creeping into their bones. Their clothes were too thin to protect their bodies from the chill of their cement bed, so they eventually migrated back into the room.

Yori immediately dropped his pants and crawled into the bed, unashamed of his near nudity.

Boruto was much different. He grew up in a predominantly female household (as his father was hardly ever around for longer than breakfast), so he was used to covering himself and those around him being covered. Being on a genin team was a shock, having to sleep and change near other people on overnight missions. Especially where Sarada was concerned.

A brilliantly red blush adorned his face and the young blond twisted his hands together nervously, looking everywhere around the impersonal hotel room than at Yori's nude form.

"You were trying to have sex with me less than two hours ago and now you are acting all virginal and blushing and not looking at me in my underwear," Yori was calling him out on his crap.

Boruto was determined to prove him wrong so he forced himself to stare at the exposed image of his Yori in front of him. Boruto's mouth went dry when he was met with the sight of so much free skin in front of him, Yori naked everywhere except for the purple y fronts he was wearing. His pale skin glowed in the dim light of the inn room. His legs were spread open at the knee, ankles crossed with dark sparse hair all over his legs. Boruto noted that his chest also had sparse dark hair over it, stomach protruding a little bit (Boruto was so used to the trim, athletic figures of his fellow shinobi that it came as a shock that Yori wasn't ripped; he liked it), small tattoo on his hip whispering to the curious part of Boruto.

"What's your tattoo of?"

Yori urgently grabbed the comforter that was next to him and covered himself up to his collar bone with it. "Goodnight," he said, and immediately fell down onto the bed on his back and tucked the edges of the thick down blanket underneath him.

Boruto's Older Sibling senses were tingling and he immediately had to satiate his curiosity. Boruto had to crawl onto the bed and on top of the prone body of the brunette. He straddled the other man as he tried to rip the blankets off of him. Yori was holding on tight, but eventually Boruto ripped them from his hands, having the upper hand in position. He had to scoot down from his position on Yori's stomach to his upper thighs to be far down enough to reveal the tattoo that decorated the brunettes protruding hip.

What was revealed to him surprised him.

It was a thin, black lined tattoo of a rabbit.

"You've got to be kidding me," Boruto said, then started laughing hard, his entire body vibrating.

Yori pushed him off of him and Boruto fell into a messy pile on the bed next to him. Boruto kept laughing and Yori eventually joined in. Eventually they were lying next to each other, trying their hardest to catch their breath after laughing, chests heaving.

"Why a rabbit?" Boruto asks, his voice loud in the silence of the room and all those around their little room of heaven.

"Why not a rabbit?" Yori retorts softly, reaching down to trace the lines of the permanent ink etched into the dermis layer of his skin. "I like rabbits."

"No deep meaning?" Boruto asks as he shucks off his jacket and shirt, throwing them off the side of the bed he is laying on. His black track pants eventually followed, leaving him sitting on the top of the comforter in pink boxer briefs. All of a sudden nudity meant nothing to him. What's showing your body to someone you've already shown parts of your soul to?

"Some things don't have deep meanings, remember? Sometimes things are how they are simply because they are," Yori said as he reached forward and traced a finger across an old scar that adorned Boruto's rip cage then traced the newer one that adorned his chest. The one on the young man's tanned chest was newly healed, pink skin portraying its novelty.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Yori's rough voice asked as he repeatedly outlined the pinking scar on the chest of his younger lover.

He didn't, he really didn't. He wanted to die being the only person that knew his reasons behind that scar. He wanted it to follow him to the grave and then for forever, wherever he ended up. He never wanted his mother to know and be sad and he never wanted his father to place another thing upon his shoulders and weigh him down like Atlas. He needed this to weigh him down and condemn him to a life of solitude. His scars were his alone, not something anyone else needed to bear.

The words tumbled out of his mouth without his permission.

"Earlier, when me and dad were fighting… We had been arguing about this and that… And then he brought up the last mission I had gone on out of Konoha. You see, right now I'm on light duty after recently being taken off medical leave. It had been a mission to the Village Hidden in the Sand, some stupid mission to drop off an important scroll to Uncle Gaara. My team and I got ambushed on the way back by some missing nin— which you would think there would be less of them during a time of peace but nope— and I was fighting this woman who had face tattoos and she was slashing a kunai at my chest and… and I could've moved. I could have. I could have jumped out of the way, ducked, something. I had the time. But in that moment I froze. And I had a thought I don't want to admit. To you, to anyone. I thought 'Why?'. Why keep going on, why keep living? My life has been on standby for years. I haven't done anything with my life, I haven't started a family, hadn't done anything with my career — hell, I'm only a chunin. My baby sister is already a jonin. I haven't even tried going for the jonin xam. My friends, my family, they're all moving on with their lives and I'm just in a stand still. So I thought fuck it, ya know? Why? I've had these thoughts before, dark ones that burn in the dead of night. Thoughts that tell me how worthless I am and how I mean nothing and how I should just quit it all. I never listened before. But I listened in that moment. It was liberating, in a way, to finally say that it was enough. Yori, I was so tired. So tired.

"Konohamaru— my sensei— got to me afterward and he was putting pressure on my chest so I didn't bleed out and die. He was cursing and when we made eye contact, I swore he knew. He had to have known, in a way. He had to. He's not that dumb. My teammate Sarada healed up what she could. Her mother is the best medic nin around, but Sarada never really got the hang of it that easily, she only really knew a bit more than the basics. I was the medic nin of our team, but I was the one down. I remember the teary black eyes of my teammate and even with her sadness, I was ready. I was so ready.

"They got me back to Konoha in time. Mitsuki carried me on his back, running ahead of the team to get me to the hospital in time. Sarada's mom performed the surgery and it went smoothly, she just had to sew me up a bit, replace some blood . I just remember the face of my parents and my sister when I woke up and… God, Yori, that fucked me up. I realized in that hospital room that I could never leave them. I just couldn't. I was stupid.

"I think Sarada told my dad that I could have moved out of the way of the kunai because he's been treating me a lot differently, like he's scared to let me out of his sight but at the same time just being near him drives him inside because I won't talk to him. It's hurting him; he's so used to knowing everything and fixing everything. But there are some things he can't fix. I have to do this."

Boruto took a deep breath of air. His hands were shaking, having spilled his darkest secret to the person that could make or break him. Yori reached for his hand and he knew that Yori wouldn't push him away, wouldn't hold anything against him. Maybe, in his own way, he even understood.

Yori drew Boruto to him, placing the blonds' head underneath his chin, clutching the Uzumaki close to him. Boruto laid his head on the brunette's collar bone and let the older guy pull him on top of him. Warm skin was touching warm skin and Boruto felt like he could finally let some walls down and not be judged, like the whole village had judged him his entire life.

"Sometimes you need others there with you as you fix yourself," Yori whispered into the soft yellow strands of hair. "Sometimes knowing someone's there for you makes the world of difference."

Boruto said nothing and just snuggled farther into the neck of his lover.

"You need to talk to your dad, Sunshine," Yori said and he hugged him closer when Boruto started to struggle at the mention of actually speaking to his father. "He needs to know. It will do you and him a world of difference. Stop acting like a child and speak to the man. He's your father, he loves you."

The words from Yuri's mouth didn't make him as mad as when his father spoke them because he finally could admit that his Yori and his father were both right— Boruto needed to speak to his father. Needed to fix the stab wound between them and get his job back, needed to get himself back, and needed to fix the relationship between father and son. Talking to his father would help him fix himself.

"I will tell him," Boruto whispered confidentially into the harsh bones of his lover's body. "But not right now."

Yori leaned down and kissed the young man's head. "Whenever you are ready is when it needs to come out."

"Hey, kid, get the fuck up." Boruto woke up to a gruff voice commanding him and a plush pillow hit him on the stomach.

"Fuck off," Boruto grumbled and turned to lay on his front. He snuggled farther into the pillows and brought the comforter up to his face. It smelled like smoke and fabric softener.

Yori started shaking him. "Sunshine, you are the reason I only got four hours of sleep, so I'm making sure I pay you back." Boruto kicked back at the brunette and landed the hit on his stomach. An 'oof!' escaped the brown eyed man and Boruto snickered.

"If you don't get up in five seconds I will throw water on you," Yori promised. Boruto automatically shot up from his spot on the bed and tried to step off onto the ground but his legs were tangled in the blankets and he instead fell to the ground. His father always threw water on him to wake him up. He wasn't sure if it was just because he was difficult to wake up or if the internal prankster of his father couldn't pass the opportunity.

Boruto looked up at the man in front of him. He watched as Yori efficiently tied his polka dotted tie, crinkling the purple button up shirt underneath. "Damn, what an image to wake up to."

Yori rolled his eyes and leaned down to lace a kiss on top of Boruto's blond hair that was big and knotted from sleep. Boruto hummed in contentment when he felt the warm kiss of his partner.

"I have to wear a tie today because of some special mother fucker is coming in to listen to me beg for funding, so enjoy it while it lasts," Yori complained. Boruto giggled and grabbed onto the tie and used it to lightly pull the brunette forward and placed a kiss on his lips. Yori kissed him back and when he pulled away he said, "Ew, morning breath." Boruto swatted at him and Yori laughed as he grabbed on to the flying hand and kissed its knuckles softly.

Yori walked away from the form of his partner and rummaged through the side table next to the head of the bed. Boruto kept on sitting on the ground by the side of the bed and snuggled deeper into the comforter that smelled like both Yori and him and something entirely new.

A hard plastic item flew and hit Boruto on the head and he grumbled in outrage. "There's a spare toothbrush in the bathroom because my daughter wanted to make sure I had packed enough for some reason? Who needs two toothbrushes? I don't understand the mind of children." Boruto hummed to let Yori knew he was listening to him and noticed the item that had been thrown at him next to his feet. He reached a tan hand out to grab it and noted that it was a key card.

"Yori, you dropped a key card," Boruto said in a soft, sleep filled voice. He still hadn't woken up that much.

Yori laughed at his Sunshine. "Sunshine, you are not a morning person are you? I threw that key card at you for a reason, silly. It's yours to use as you will. If you need a sanctuary and I'm not here, feel free to use it. Or if you would like to spend the night. Or if you had a nightmare in the middle of the night and need comforting. Or you just need a nap in the middle of the day. Ya know, the usual." Boruto felt light inside that someone would look out for him as much as Yori had. He was amazed that he hadn't driven Yori insane already. It made him feel happy inside knowing that Yori wanted to be around him as much as he wanted to be around the brunette.

"Thanks, Bunny, it means a lot to me," Boruto smiled up at the man that stood in front of him. Yori smirked down at the blond before leaning down and planting a kiss atop his head.

"Bunny, huh?" Boruto hummed in response.

"I've gotta go to work now, Sunshine," Yori said as he leaned down farther to kiss Boruto on his mouth, ignoring the morning breath again. Boruto reached up to grab at Yori's face, enjoying the stubble that scratched his hands that were calloused from years of training.

"Scratchy… I like it." With one more parting kiss, Yori ghosted from his room. When Yori's presence disappeared from his hotel room, Boruto was left with a cold sense of aching, as if he had a phantom limb. The room once again became just an impersonal inn room; the warmth that Yuri brought was missing. Boruto wondered if other people could feel the same warmth he always felt from merely being in Yuri's presence. He wondered if it was because he loved the brunette.

As he got up to brush his teeth, finding the extra toothbrush lying on the counter still in its wrapper, the pink hilt made for him, he wondered why he wasn't terrified of being in love with Yori. Days before, he had freaked out at the mere idea of being in love and now, here he was, using an extra toothbrush of the man he loved inside the room he was staying in, acting like it was an everyday occurrence.

Maybe it was because Yori knew all the dark parts of Boruto and he hadn't run away, hadn't belittled him, and hadn't made him feel bad about himself. Yori was Yori; he was strong and he listened and he believed. He had been more scared of the concept of love than being in love with Yori in particular. Maybe that's why it was easy; he wasn't just in love with anyone— he was in love with Yori.

Boruto's shoulder length hair was messy and Yori didn't have a hairbrush lying around, probably not used to combing his short brown hair. The blond just threw his hair up in a messy bun and decided just to head home. He lazily put on his day old track suit and thanked the lord he wouldn't have to wear it for long; it smelled lightly of sweat and the smoke of weed.

Boruto headed out of the room, making sure to lock the door behind him. He rushed home so no one would see him not looking perfect (Boruto was like his parents' friend Ino like that, always wanting to look perfect no matter what. Naruto didn't understand), using chakra to climb to the top of a building and then running across them all to get home unseen by others.

When he finally got onto the block he lived on, he made sure to drop to the ground and walk home. His mother didn't like it when he travelled by rooftop even though his father tended to do it.

When he used his key to unlock the front door, he took of his shoes by the door, throwing the black sandals down haphazardly. He noted that the clock on the wall in front of him was at 8:02. Boruto hummed happily; he might have made it on time to get some of his mother's breakfast. His stomach grumbled in agreement.

He walked down the hardwood hallway to the kitchen to look for something edible that was already made (because he had not inherited his mothers cooking skills). When he entered the kitchen he was disappointed to notice his mother hadn't left out any food for him, so he turned to raid the fridge.

"Why is the only thing we have in here soy milk? Who drinks soy milk in this family?" Boruto muttered to himself as he angrily scrounged around to find anything in the fridge. 'Must be grocery day,' Boruto thought to himself as he closed the stainless steel door of the refrigerator.

"Boruto!" The angry voice of his father called out to him from the living room. The young blond man groaned; he hated to be yelled at on an empty stomach.

He knew the best course of action was to go to his father before his father got tired of waiting for him and confronted him. Boruto walked through the archway from the kitchen to the living room, where he was greeted with the sight of an angry and tired father pacing around the far edge of the room.

When his father finally noticed his entrance into the room, the whiskered man pointed at him, accusingly. "Where were you last night?" He demanded.

'I was trying to get dick-ed down by my man and smoked some weed,' Boruto thought, then shook his head. He could NOT tell his father that.

"Out," was all the chunin said.

That seemed to anger his father more.

"Out? You were out? You basically told me that you wanted to die last night and you decided it was a good course of action to stay out all night? Your mother and I were worried sick!" Boruto felt guilty for worrying his parents; it looked like he couldn't do anything right.

"Where's mom now?" He asked, wringing his hands together. He stared at the small scars on those hands, watching as they stretched whenever he moved them.

"She's in bed. She knew that you would come back home on your own time, but she stayed up with me all night anyway, worrying silently. I wanted to go out and look for you but she convinced me that you needed to come home by yourself." Boruto was glad they didn't go looking for him, as he didn't know how he would have explained why he was smoking weed with a half naked man in his hotel room. Other than the obvious explanation that he was gay, of course, but he didn't think his parents were quite ready for that yet.

"I'm sorry dad," Boruto said softly to his hands. His father plopped himself down on the light colored couch and placed his hands on his face, elbows on his knees.

"I was so worried," The heavy voice of his father ground out. "I don't know what I would have done if anything happened to you."

A heavy silence came over them.

"Where were you?" Naruto asked, finally looking at his son in the eyes.

Not looking away from the eyes of his father, the eyes he had inherinted, he said, "I was at Shikadai's." Naruto nodded and the silence continued on. Boruto could hear the loud screeching chirps of the small birds outside. Boruto started ripping the hard skin from around his finger nails off, revealing the pink new skin underneath. Naruto just watched his son and his harmful behavior, saying nothing. It was his sons' turn to speak. Hinata was right when she said she couldn't force anything from him, the young Uzumaki had to be willing with his information.

After a moment, Boruto started talking. Starting spilling his soul again to another man that meant so much to him. If Yori could take it, then his father could take it, too. After all, he was his father, he had to love all his faults and stand by him. Yori didn't have to. Yori did anyway.

Halfway through his explanation, his father started crying, gripping onto the soft fabric of his black track pants. It startled Boruto; it had been years since he had seen his father cry, and that was for a happy reason. Seeing his father so sad he was crying was a shock to him. It hurt that he made that happen.

When he finished talking, his father clutched onto him and pulled him onto his lap like he was a small child all over again. He didn't fit as well as he did when he was a small boy, but he wasn't going to let that bother him.

"I'm so sorry," Naruto said, voice catching on his sobs.

"It's not your fault, Dad," Boruto said, tears in his eyes that he refused to let fall. His voice was heavy with emotion begging to be let free. "It's my fault; I'm a freak. There's something wrong with me."

Naruto clutched his son tighter to his chest. "No, don't say that. You won't be able to go on missions for a while, but you're gonna get help, I promise. A lot of ninja experience depression; it's common in our line of work. Some people are just born with it. Some people get it after years of traumatic missions. Don't worry; your mother and I will get you to talk to someone. It'll all be better." Boruto wasn't sure if he believed his father, but he wanted to. He wanted to get better. He didn't want to keep fighting his thoughts, who were his own enemy. He was so tired.

He was tired of fighting with his father. He wasn't around much, but he was always around when it really mattered. On a normal day, that didn't really mean much, but right now, lying in his father's arms, it felt like enough.

It was nice to not be at war with the old man for once in his life.

His father sniffed. "Why do you smell weird?"

Shit.

When Naruto went to his office, hours later in the evening of the day, he ran into Shikamaru. His advisor was piling stacks of paper onto his already over flowing desk. One would imagine in the modern era, they would go paper less, but nope.

The blond gripped his friend's shoulder tightly before pulling him in for a hug. Shikamaru's eyes went wide and he lightly hit his friend on the back in a confused man hug.

"What's going on?" Shikamaru asked.

"I'm so glad that Boruto has such good friends like Shikadai."

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow and pulled away from the blond, going back to the paperwork. Naruto started grabbing the most important paperwork from the pile and sat down to do them. Nothing else really mattered.

"I didn't know that Shikadai and Boruto had hung out recently."

Naruto froze, ink dripping from the quill he was using to sign the documents, dropping on the yellow parchment paper like tears.

"Boruto told me that he spent the night with Shikadai last night."

Shikamaru shook his head. "Unless Boruto was suddenly invisible, he wasn't at our house last night."

Naruto gripped the quill hard to enough to make it snap. It looked like his son was still lying to him, even after his confession.

 **Okay, this chapter did NOT follow the outline I had written out for shit, but I think it's what I needed. It's not as long as the last couple, but it's not the shortest chapter yet.**

 **I hope y'all like it!**

 **Also, I make scene spacing on the Microsoft Word document, but when I upload it to FF, it doesn't load right? I'm not just pretending scene spacing isn't a thing, I swear I do it. Any tips anyone?**


	6. Chapter 6

Yori turned over in bed and was met with the form of Boruto.

"Hello there, Sunshine," Yori greeted, a small sleepy smile on his face, voice like gravel because of sleep. Boruto looked at the crooked canine that always stood out a little more when he smiled.

"Hey, Bunny. Did I wake you?" Boruto breathed, scooting closer to the warm body beside him. Even though it was summer time, the nights in Konoha were always chilly. Yori grabbed the blond by his upper arm and pulled him to where Boruto was practically lying on top of the brunette, as if he was a blanket. Their legs were tangled and Boruto enjoyed the scratching sensation of hair against skin against hair.

"Hm, feel free to wake me up any time," Yori grumbled, forcing his head in the small space between the blonds' head and chest. Boruto laughed lightly, an airy thing that seemed too loud in the darkness of the room.

Yori continued on, sleep making his words rush together a little, "You make me feel like a teenager again, sneaking into my room late at night." When Yori spoke, he blew warm air onto Boruto's cold skin, making it erupt into goosebumps and shivers to run down his spine.

Boruto rolled his brilliant blue eyes, though obviously Yori couldn't see it. "I'm really sneaking into your room by using the key you gave me." Yori chuckled at that.

In the silence that followed, Boruto believed that Yori fell back asleep. His breathing was even and deep and his legs twitched every so often. It reminded Boruto of the dogs he saw every time he and his mother went to visit her old genin teammate at the Inuzuka compound.

Yori's soft voice brought Boruto out of his reminiscing. "Why did you become a ninja?" His voice was curious, yet soft. The blond could tell that he was a hair away from dreamland. He probably wouldn't even remember this conversation in the morning.

Boruto lied there before untangling himself from the octopus arms of his beloved. He then lied on his back, trailing all the cracks in the ceiling above with his eyes. They were hard to make out in the dark, but they were there. Boruto practically had their locations memorized. Yori scooted closer to the young man in search of his body heat or maybe just because he liked him being there, Boruto didn't know. He allowed the brunette to lay his head on his shoulder and tangle their hands together.

"Both my parents are ninja. My mother was the heiress to the Hyuga clan; my father became the Hokage when I was very young. Their parents were shinobi and their parents before them. Becoming a shinobi was expected of me. There was really no other option for me." Boruto began tapping his fingers against Yori's soft hand beneath his. Yori shuffled, but didn't remove his hand.

"What about what you wanted?"

Boruto laughed a throaty laugh. "I think it's every small child's dream to grow up and become a ninja."

"I don't think people should trust the words of a child to decide what they want to be when they grow up," Yori muttered, breathe warm and tickling Boruto's small ear. "Last I knew my kid wants to be a tarantula even after I have explained to her time and time again that that is physically impossible. Children cannot decide what they want to do for the rest of their lives and be held accountable for it." Boruto stiffened beneath the sleepy form of his lover. Yori woke up a bit, raising his head to be eye level with the blond in his bed. "Oh, I don't want to fight, Sunshine. You can't say that you don't agree with me, at least even a little bit."

Boruto felt offended; here laid an outsider belittling his village's ways and their traditions. Yori didn't come from a ninja village so he couldn't understand their ways. Children entered the Academy at the age of eight to be young enough to be trained to be proficient ninja's so they wouldn't die easily in battle. It was harsh, but in his world it was a reality.

But Boruto could admit, begrudgingly, that Yori had a point. Why ask a child to decide their career— a highly dangerous one that usually ended in death or disability or insanity— when they could barely decide what they want from life? Was it right to ask a child to give up their whole life for the sake of the villages'? Becoming a ninja meant giving up your childhood; was it right of them to ask that of someone that was smaller than five feet tall?

Boruto willed his body to relax and when he was lying calmly again, Yori placed his head back in the crook of the blonds' neck. Yori's head was a little too big to be placed there comfortably, his day old stubble scratched at Boruto's skin in a way that the blue eyed Uzumaki couldn't decide if it felt nice or not, Boruto's head crooked to the side slightly in a way that would give him a cramp in the morning; Boruto wouldn't give this up for anything.

Boruto started talking. "No, you're right in a way. These kids that sign up for this lifestyle, they don't know what they are really signing up for. They know that they could die doing it, but they don't know about everything else that could happen— they could get tortured or lose their minds. They don't understand their missions could haunt them for years and the 'what if's could cause anyone to kill themselves if they're not strong enough. They don't expect to watch their friends die in front of them or have to place their morals to the side in order to complete a mission.

"Kids only see the glorified side of the shinobi life— the cool justus, the summoning animals, learning to fight with weapons, becoming some intricate part of the village. They see the honor it brings and the ability to protect their loved ones. They don't see anything else. They never dwell on the bad. Eight year olds ignore the negativity this life will bring. Or maybe no one explained it to them, thinking they were too young to hear the downsides of shinobi life, but they were old enough to decide this is what they wanted."

The silence stretched around them for what felt like eternities. Galaxies were born and died in that time, whole civilizations thrived and fell, and the sun finally fell in love with the moon.

After a while, Yuri asks, "Would you have chosen a different path for your life? Would you have become something else?"

Boruto responded in a voice laced with heavy emotion, "No."

Two days later, Boruto is walking down the street to his appointment, his father by his side, sans Hokage robe that would make the two stick out from the crowd more than they already did. Actually, Boruto was walking with a shadow clone of his father's, not the real flesh and blood version of him. Boruto wished he would have become numb to the feeling of being second place in his father's life, but he has come to learn that some feelings won't die; they fester and live inside you forever.

"Thanks for coming with me dad," Boruto told the figure walking beside him and forced a small smile on his face. They both knew that he knew that it was a clone. The clone of Naruto wondered if his son had always been like this; always attacked his parent's weak points. HE wondered if Bolt ever treated his mother like this, with too sharp words and deadly looks. He knew that his son didn't. Bolt was a momma's boy through and through.

"Anything for you," Naruto smiled back, and Boruto was led to believe his father was widely smiling because he meant it. Naruto had perfected the fake smile years and years before his son was born. The older blond wondered if it was his fault that his kin didn't know him well. Most day's he felt like his childhood friends knew him better than his own son, but they also had the opportunity to grow up alongside the jinchuriki. His son only saw him as his good for nothing slightly absentee father who spent all his hours away from the family he created and instead devoted all his time and energy to leading the village.

The blonds' both moved down the street, finally approaching the discreet looking brick building in front of them. Boruto messed with the portable game console in his hands; for some reason he couldn't leave it behind. Not today.

The Hokage stuffed his hands in his pockets, years of uncomfortable kage situations making him not show his nervousness. "Let's go inside," Naruto said, moving foreward and extending his arm to grasp onto the steel handlebar on the entrance door. Boruto grasped his arm before he could touch it, though.

"No, you can go back to the Tower," he told his father, not looking at him.

Naruto stiffened. "Bolt, I told you that you won't be alone in this. Your mother and I will help you through it. We will be beside you in this."

The young blond shook his head, hair ruffling in the motion. Naruto noted that his sons' hair was getting past his shoulders. Maybe he would wear his hair long like his eponym. Naruto would like that; it would be like a piece of Neji lived on.

"No, this is something I have to do by myself," Boruto stated confidently, before he reached for the door handle. When his hand made contact with the steel, he said, "You can dispel the clone now." Then he went inside the building so he wouldn't be late to his therapy appointment.

Naruto stood there, looking at the blurry figure of his son through the frosted plane of the glass door, the younger man talking to the receptionist. Naruto could barely hear the muffled voice of his son.

'He's more like Neji than I ever thought he'd be,' Naruto thought to himself, then he dispelled in a puff of smoke.

Yori and Boruto had made plans to meet at Ichiraku that evening after his therapy appointment. It would be the first time they actually made plans to meet up somewhere instead of just stumbling upon the other.

"I think it is really good that you're finally going to therapy," Yori had told him the night before as he held the blond in his lap, both of them sitting on the balcony of his room late at night. This time they weren't smoking, just enjoying each other's presence and the stars above them. "It's hard to open up to someone that you pay to analyze every word you say, every tick of your face, every emotion you convey. It's a hard thing to go through and I'm proud that you are trying to better your life and overcome the obstacles set in front of you."

Boruto was now approaching his father's favorite restaurant. He spotted Yori standing out front, smoking a cigarette.

"I didn't know you smoked," Boruto stated when he got closer to the brunette. Yori shrugged and threw the cigarette onto the ground before stomping on it and putting it out. He turned around to open the door for the young blond man, leaving the cigarette on the ground in his wake.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me," Yori stated as he followed the Uzumaki through the doorway. "There are also a lot of things I don't know about you. Sometimes even after a lifetime, you still don't truly know the other person."

Boruto rolled his eyes before telling the hostess in front of him that it was only going to be a party of two and yes, a booth would be okay.

The two slip into a booth and a waitress rushes over quickly and takes their drink order, while gushing at Boruto.

"Aw, you've grown up so much! Your father is in here all the time, and he never brings you even though I always tell him to," the waitress says like she's known Boruto since he was born. She might have; his father used to take the whole family to Ichiraku all the time when they were younger. The visits came to a full stop when Naruto became Hokage, but it seemed that he had enough free time to grab meals without his family.

Boruto buried the dark feeling deep inside of him and made a note to talk to his new therapist about it on their next appointment.

Boruto and Yori quickly scan the menu before ordering. Boruto chooses the beef ramen, the same thing he's ordered since he was a tyke. Yori ordered the Spicy Chicken. The waitress smiles wide and goes off to place their orders with the cook in the back. The two men turn to each other now that they don't have to pay any attention to the world around them.

"How was therapy?" Yori asks, genuinely interested. Boruto notes that his hands are crossed together and that his pinky nail is bitten down shorter than all the others. Yori must be a nail biter.

Boruto shrugs as he messed with the chopsticks in front of him. He breaks them apart and then rubs them against each other, the friction ridding the thin pieces of bamboo of any extra wood bits that are sticking out.

"It was okay. Today we just went through an assessment. It took a lot out of me though, ya know? Like after years of this shit piling up, finally letting it out is excruciatingly exhausting."

Yori nods like he understands and Bortuo thinks he might. Yori was right when he said earlier that they didn't know each other that well. Even so, Boruto's soul felt like he has known Yori since his soul was created, thousands and thousands of years before.

"You're very strong, Sunshine, don't forget that," Yori stated, not moving his eyes from the man in front of him. Boruto blushed and fidgeted in his seat, not used to getting so much positive attention from someone that wasn't his mother. Usually people (aka his father, his friends, his parents' friends, his extended family, the people of Konoha, etc) point out things that he does wrong, so he wasn't used to dealing with someone being so positive toward him.

"How was work?" Boruto blurted out quickly, face flushed red. Yori laughed and the throaty noise lifted Boruto's spirits. He hadn't been joking when he told the older man that the day had been exhausting on him. All he wanted to do was to go home and nap, but he didn't want to miss any time with the brunette in front of him.

Yori slammed his face against the table. "Don't remind me of that hell," He grumbled. "I almost got in a fist fight with a coworker because he said something rude about the character designs for the side characters." Boruto laughed at his beloved's distress. Yori shot him a mock glare, brown eyes twinkling in the dim light of the ramen restaurant. "Be quiet you, you don't understand. Your job requires you to get into fist fights with people."

"Fist fights? The shinobi forces of Konoha have more fighting style than a civilian bar fight," Boruto said, curling his upper lip in a fake look of disgust. Yori stuck his tongue out at the blond in front of him. "How old are you again?" Boruto joked.

"Eat shit, Sunshine."

The two broke out into laughter, which was much louder than any of the tables around them.

"Boruto?" A voice coming from outside of their table asked, breaking both men out of their little world. They turned to look at the figure of a black haired girl with ink eyes and red glasses standing at the end of their table. Another girl came up, snacking on a bag of taco flavored chips, her dark skin and her larger girth (at least larger for a ninja) made people draw the conclusion that she was a Akimichi. Of course with Yori being an outsider to the village, she just looked like a regular girl to him that must really love potato chips.

Seeing Chocho and Sarada made Boruto's whole world come to a full stop. How would he explain Yori? It didn't make any sense that he was eating dinner with an older man who wasn't a ninja. He couldn't explain this away, other than telling them the obvious, which he wasn't ready to tell. Would he ever be ready? Could he ever tell the people he loved his preferences? That he didn't want a wife and a whole herd of children with his features, he would rather have a husband and adopt a whole herd of children that didn't look a thing like him (either way, he was getting a whole herd of children, dammit)? Could anyone else understand that the love he felt for another man— this man who was seated in front of him in particular— wasn't disgusting, wasn't abnormal but instead completely natural and the easiest thing he has ever experienced in his short eighteen years?

"Boruto?" Sarada asked again, snapping the blond out of his internal panic. He turned to look quickly at Yori, who had his face leaning on his hand, elbow on the red countertop, and a sad smile perched on his face. Boruto quickly turned to look back at his teammate, finding Yori's face hard to look at.

"Hey, Sarada," Boruto greeted, fake smile perched on his face, forcing his voice to be warm and welcoming. Sarada's all seeing eyes seemed to look into his soul. Boruto shivered.

"Who is this? Why haven't you introduced your childhood friends to the nice piece of man you're eating dinner with?" Chocho asked between potato chips. It seemed like the bag never ran out, which was funny because whenever Boruto ate potato chips half of the bag was pure air.

Yori laughed while Boruto inwardly grumbled about Chocho hitting on _his_ man.

"Hey, sweetheart, name's Yori Yosano," Yori greeted Chocho with a bright enough smile to make the dark skinned girl blush. Boruto turned to glare at Yori, who shrugged his shoulders.

"What did you order?" Chocho interrogated the brunette man.

"Um… Spicy chicken?" Yori said, but it sounded more like a question. He turned toward Boruto and raised an eyebrow as if to ask 'What the heck is with this girl?' Boruto just smiled.

Chocho nodded in approval. "Good choice. I trust a man who can handle spice."

"How do you know Boruto, Yosano-san?" Sarada asked, pushing up her glasses on her nose, the lenses reflecting in the dim light. Boruto started sweating at the dreaded question. He turned toward Yori with a pleading look on his face.

Yori stared at Boruto, and then looked at Sarada. With an unwavering expression he told the young girl, "Boruto and I met through a mission. He was assigned a mission to show me around Konoha, as I am an infrequent visitor and your village seems to change every time I come back. I decided to take him out to dinner to show him my gratitude." Boruto sighed at the excuse that was wrapped in truth. It would be easy to remember and this way he didn't have to admit to his two girl friends that he was on a date with another man. He probably should tell his parents he was gay before it got around all of Konoha.

"Wouldn't the mission money be gratitude enough?" Sarada asked snidely.

"Sarada!" Boruto exclaimed, surprised at his normally calm teammates rude comment. Yori just laughed and waved Boruto's concern away.

"It probably would have, but Boruto seems to be a nice man. He deserves a little extra every once in a while." Boruto blushed brightly at Yori's nice words. Yori's leg extended into the blonds' section beneath the table and interlaced itself with the sandal covered ankles. Yori shot the blond a quick smile and wink.

"Boruto being a man? Psh," Chocho declared as she finished her chips, holding the empty bag tightly in her hands before handing it to a passing waitress who took it kindly.

Boruto turned to Yori. "Chocho is my least favorite friend, below even Inojin."

"Fuck you," Chocho said good naturedly, rolling her bright yellow eyes.

"Boruto, why are you placed on medical leave for the second time this month? You don't look hurt," Sarada asked, bringing the two out of their mini fight.

Boruto bit his lip. He didn't know if he should tell Sarada the truth. Would she treat him like a child? Would she see him any different? Would she stop relying on him in the field if she found out how unstable he was mentally?

"Some wounds aren't physical," Was the cryptic answer the young blond settled on. Sarada's black eyes widened before she nodded. He didn't know why he worried; Sarada always understood. She understood having an absentee father (which his was nothing in compare to her father being gone for the first eight years of her life) and she always understood the pressure placed upon her because she had powerful parents too. It made sense that she would understand this.

Also, Boruto heard that her dad had a time of insanity and he bet she knew about that.

"Sarada, we've gotta go meet up Inojin and Metal," Chocho whined, starting to drag her smaller friend to the exit. "Bye Boruto! Bye Tosano-san!" Sarada waved at the two men and they smiled and waved back at the retrieving figures of the girls.

"It's Yosano— oh, whatever," Yori yelled after the girls.

The waitress brought over the two steaming bowl of ramen and the men dug into the bowls in silence. Boruto winced at the amount of salt in his ramen broth. He seemed to be the only person who ever thought that Ichiraku ramen wasn't perfect.

"They're nice girls," Yori said as the blond in front of him took another bite, noodles falling out of his mouth. Boruto hummed and nodded, slurping the noodles up, getting little droplets everywhere. Yori wiped one from his face.

The two sit there in silence, the only noise is the tables around them and the sound of Boruto slurping up noodles, a complete 180 from how they acted before Sarada and Chocho interrupted them. Yori used his chopsticks to stir around the thin noodles in the yellow broth and he asked, "Are you fine, living a life that's a lie? Are you really fine with your friends, your family not knowing who you really are? What happens when everyone's expecting you to settle down with a woman and start a family? Are you going to pretend then, too?"

Boruto stilled. After he swallowed all of the noodles in his mouth, he took a drink of the cola he had gotten along with his ramen. "I don't wanna talk about it," He eventually asserted.

Yori nodded, expecting that answer. "Someday you will have to face all these things you are pushing to the side. When that happens it won't be on your terms and you will wish that it had been. You're friends and family will love you no matter what. The question is when will you love yourself?"

Boruto didn't respond and the two finished their meal in silence.

 **Hey guys, how about an early** **update** **: ) I know that this is only like the third shortest chapter, but I had wished for it to be longer. Oh well, it had to be stopped here. What I'm planning on next won't necessarily fit in this chapter very well.**

 **How did y'all like it? I'm pretty sure the Depression™ problem in this story is solved. Pretty much from here on we are going to go through the Yori issue with a splash of Daddy issues.**

 **There will probably only be fifteen chapters or less in this story, so don't think I'm going to be dragging it out forever.**

 **Also, I have gotten a job recently, so hopefully I have enough free time to be typing out these chapters because they really don't take me that long to plan and type, but it might take me longer than the one week deadline I usually have. I'm not expecting it to, though, so y'all shouldn't either.**


	7. Chapter 7

After the— fight? Disagreement?— with Yori, Boruto spent the night at his own home instead of spending the night with Yori. It felt like it had been forever since he had been home, but in reality it had only been a day or two. Sometimes certain days feel like they go on forever.

Boruto woke up feeling sort of numb and alone, but that might have been the hazy just woke up feeling instead of anything else. Boruto tried to ignore it.

When the blond was almost one hundred percent woken up (or at least woken up enough that he could safely crawl out of bed), he quickly rushed to the bathroom to take a shower. He had to share one with Himawari, and if she got to the bathroom first he knew he wouldn't be able to do anything for at least an hour. He quickly stripped and jumped in the shower, turning the water on in a haste. He forgot to step out of the way of the stream of cold water, drenching himself and causing him to shiver. Their water heater always took a while to start working; it was a thing that was on his fathers To Do list, which meant it wouldn't be dealt with anytime soon. Boruto had half a mind to call the plumbers on his own to get it fixed, damn their overpriced rates.

When the water finally heated up to what Boruto considered the perfect temperature, he stepped under the spray and let the water soak through his long hair. He quickly got lost in thought, like he always did when he was in the shower. It seemed ever since he had met the brunette, all his thoughts always brought him back to Yori.

Lathering his cucumber and melon scented shampoo into his hair, he wondered if Yori lost sleep over their disagreement like Boruto did. It reminded the blond of the fights his parents would get into on occasion. His mother, bless her delicate soul, was the master of the silent treatment; his father was the type to argue and fight it out. Their fights were always an odd mixture of both intense silences and brutal training sessions between the two. It was always painful to watch. When they made up, it lasted and it felt like the world was at peace with itself again. Come to think of it, they hadn't gotten into any fights recently.

'Yeah, cuz you have to be home to get into fights,' Boruto scoffed to himself while he rinsed the suds out of his hair, warm soapy water running down the sides of his face and don his back. He made sure not to get any soap into his eyes.

Boruto forced the negative thoughts from his mind. After learning how many issues Boruto had with his father, his therapist told him to try and focus on the positives of his father and his position. The therapist also advised the blond to try and talk to his father about his feelings. Boruto knew he wasn't going to be doing that any time soon.

'At least Dad's making sure we don't all die horrifically in a war or something,' Boruto thought, trying to force his mind to think positive. It was a hard thing to do after a lifetime of focusing on the negatives and letting them plague him.

He quickly lathered some of his sister's rose scented conditioner into his hair, careful not to get any too near his roots. He had yet to buy his own conditioner when he started growing out his hair. Himawari was constantly complaining about running out of conditioner so quickly and she always shot glares toward Boruto when she complained, knowing he was using her hair products. He would never admit it.

Leaving the conditioner in his hair for it to set, he used a wash rag to soap up his body, enjoying the cotton candy smell of the body soap he was using. Girls always had better smelling stuff and Hinata had learned early on to get Boruto the more feminine scents.

Boruto forced his mind to go blank. Sometimes he wished he would stop thinking entirely. His thoughts were his enemy. He had no doubt that his mind would be his enemy forever, a constant battle between the two.

The image of a sleeping Yori came into his mind when he was trying to make it go blank. He debated on taking up meditation to train his mind as he skimmed the yellow wash rag all over the angles and planes of his body. Behind the ears, neck, arms, chest, back, legs, feet. Time to rinse.

He stood back underneath the water to rinse his body and his hair, the warm water heating his skin up. He used his hands to aid the water in the removal of the suds covering his body. He was careful when his fingers touched the still pink scar along his chest.

His thoughts had found their way back to Yori, as if they never wanted to leave him. This time he wasn't focused on what happened the night before at Ichiraku ramen. His mind drifted to thoughts of Yori's smile that had the one crooked canine, Yori's soft lips with the small scar on the top one, his large soft hands that gripped _just_ tight enough, his hairy chest and legs that Boruto wanted to rub against forever, his entire being that Boruto just wanted to _bury_ himself in…

Boruto's hand had wandered down his chest, past his lightly defined abs (because his family's taijutsu training wasn't as intense as the Lee's were thank God), to grasp his slightly erect member when a knock came from the door.

"Bolt! Hurry up! You've been in there a half an hour already and I have to pee!" Himwari's voice whined through the bathroom door.

Boruto huffed and turned the water ice cold. Nothing killed a boner like hearing the voice of your baby sister.

Sitting at the breakfast table, he noted that all the Uzumaki's were present. It was an unusual sight that all the chairs were full. Himawari and him were often out of the house for days on missions (Himawari especially since she outranked the blond) or even sent the night at friends' homes. Their father was often living in his office, not coming home for days and days at a time, referring to sleep there and eat there and change there. Boruto often wondered how their mother felt when everyone left her behind.

Hinata placed a plate stacked high with three different types of pancakes down in the center of the table before sitting gracefully into the seat next to her husband. Boruto remembered that when he was in the Academy, his friends would often spend the night at his house just to eat his mother's cooking.

Naruto leaned over and kissed his wife gently on her soft cheek then on her forehead. Even after all the years they had been together (twenty that coming spring), a light blush decorated her face whenever her husband bestowed any romantic attention on her.

While their parents were being all cute and love-y, Boruto and Himawari attacked the stack of pancakes in front of them, fighting over the chocolate chip pancakes. They brandished their cutlery like swords and Himawari quickly stole the top three pancakes when Boruto lost the grip on his fork after she knocked it out of his hand. He grumbled and took the bottom two chocolate chip pancakes, the slightly less warm ones.

Hinata served herself the blueberry ones she made and served her husband a couple of the plain ones, which he promptly drowned in syrup. Himawari followed her father's lead and soaked the flat food in maple syrup, not leaving a place untouched. Boruto lathered his in butter and reached to the plate next to the pancakes that was filled with sausage and bacon and grabbed two slices of the pork product. He then placed the two pieces of bacon between his pancakes and ate it like a sandwich.

"Bolt's eating with his hands," Himawari complained to their parents, in the typical little sister way.

"'Bolt's eating with his hands,'" Boruto mocked as he took another bite of his makeshift sandwich.

"Stop mocking your sister, Boruto," His father scolded as he cut his pancakes with his fork, a strip of bacon hanging halfway out of his mouth.

"'Stop making fun of your sister, Boruto,'" Boruto mocked his father as he stuffed the rest of his breakfast into his mouth, making his cheeks bulge with the amount he stuffed in them. When he looked up, he was met with the intense Mom Look™ his mother was sending him and he quickly mumbled out a halfhearted apology.

Silence settled over the Uzumaki dining table. Naruto started talking about something or other from his job, Hinata the only one really listening to him speak, a smile perched on her face as she listened. Himawari's attention was split between listening to her father's boring work story about paperwork and discreetly placing the bits of bacon fat she didn't want to eat onto Boruto's plate. Boruto, as usual, was stuck inside his own mind, absentmindedly eating the bits of bacon fat that kept mysteriously showing up on his plate.

"I'm probably going to spend another late night doing paperwork, so don't wait up for me," Naruto announced to his family as he speared a sausage with his fork and brought it up to his mouth and started chomping on it.

Himawari stilled from making a smiley face out of the syrup left on her now empty plate. "You promised you would be at dinner tonight." Himawari's voice became soft and her shoulders sunk in defeat. Hearing the sadness in his daughter's voice made Naruto sad, too. HE hated breaking his promises to his children. When he was younger, he had always kept his promises, but after he became a dad it seemed like all he was doing was breaking promise after promise.

"I'm sorry, Hima, but I've got a lot of paperwork to do," Naruto said in an attempt to let his youngest child down gently.

Himawari still looked sad, but she nodded in understanding. "I guess only mom and Boruto will get to meet my boyfriend at dinner tonight."

Both male Uzumaki's froze.

"B-b-boyfriend?" Naruto stuttered out, breathing hard. He guessed this is how his wife used to feel like when they were younger, trying to force the words out and stumbling over them all, as if they weren't from your first language.

Boruto stared wide eyed at his baby sister. How could she be dating already? His baby sister was too pure for a boyfriend! He knows what boys wanted from their romantic partners! Most days it was a challenge from keeping his hands to himself around Yori!

Boruto whipped his head from staring at his sister to face his parents, the ends of his hair whipping him in his face. He ignored the small stings of pain. He should probably start tying his hair up since it was getting long. "Is she allowed to date? I don't think she's old enough."

Himawari scoffed. "Big brother, I outrank you, so if age meant anything I am sure I'm fine. You're just jealous that I am seeing someone and you're not." Boruto scoffed out loud because he knew different, but he couldn't tell his family that. He didn't know if he would ever be able to tell his family, he would be too nervous about what they really felt.

"Himawari!" Their mother scolded, not liking the tone of voice her daughter was using with her oldest. Himawari was a sweet girl to everyone but her brother, the curse of being the baby sister to a boy.

Naruto set down his cutlery with a clatter. "I don't know, I kinda agree with Bolt; you're only fifteen—."

"— Sixteen," Himawari cut in.

"— Sixteen. Isn't that too young to date?" Naruto turned to face his wife, expecting some kind of backup from the blue haired love of his life. Hinata just calmly took a sip of her hot green tea.

"Naruto, may I remind you that we were together when we were only sixteen," Hinata's calm voice cut through the loud voices of her family, causing all attention to fall on her.

"I was seventeen," Naruto spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest because he knew he was fighting a losing battle.

"Like that makes much of a difference," Boruto muttered, taking a sip of his apple juice.

"Shut up, Boruto, I thought you were on my side," Naruto cried. The younger blond just shrugged in response.

"We gotta think about this objectively," Boruto stated when he placed his cup back on the table. "Himawari has always been a good judge of character and if she ends up marrying this guy, then you'll get a whole herd of grandkids and I will become 'Uncle Bolt'. Everyone will start getting off my back about children this way, cuz you're not getting from me any time soon." Naruto started crying at the thought of his baby having babies because she was too young but he wanted to be a grandfather, dammit! Himawari started blushing and stuttering at the image of marriage and kids.

"Boruto, dinner starts at six. Be home to support your sister," Hinata commanded in her soft voice, trying to bring the conversation back to the matter at hand.

Boruto nodded in understanding. "I have to drop off some paperwork by my therapists', but I will make sure to be here for dinner tonight." At the reminder of his mental health problems, even as vague as mentioning the need to drop off paperwork caused a stillness to fall over the previously loud breakfast table. Mental health issues and homosexuality were similar in Konoha—they were never brought up or they were awkwardly laughed off. Boruto wondered if this is how they would react when he told them he was gay; nervously laughed off or just swept under the rug, a secret everyone knew.

Hinata eventually smiled her soft, motherly smile at her son, making him relax. His mother always made everything better, even with just a smile. She could always contain his father and when he was younger, he was always more scared of getting into trouble with her than with his old man.

The eighteen year old wondered if his mother always had those mom looks before she was even a mom or if she obtained them after birthing two children.

Hinata reached over the table and placed a soft hand on her son's arm and Boruto instantly knew his mother would always be there to support him, no matter what he did in life. Hell, if he defected from Konoha and became a missing nin, he had full confidence his mother would still love him. Having such intense emotion for another person was too intense for the blond to think about.

"I'm glad you're getting the help you need," Hinata said calmly and Boruto felt warmth shoot up though his chest. His father and Himawari nodded their agreement. Boruto's face turned a brilliant red, not being used to so much positive attention to anything he did. He nervously shot up out of his seat and started grabbing the dirty breakfast plates.

"I'm gonna go wash these," Boruto nervously stuttered out before gliding out of the room. When he walked toward the kitchen area (because their dining room and kitchen were part of the same large room) he heard his father tell Himawari that for her, he could make it home for dinner.

"You just wanna grill my new boo," Himawari teased her father.

Naruto nodded, standing up. "That, too."

After Boruto dropped his paperwork off at the therapists' office, he headed to Yori's. He didn't expect the brunette to be there at all. It was only ten in the morning and whenever Boruto spent the night, Yori made him get up at eight so he could go to work. Boruto didn't mind that the brunette wouldn't be there; he just wanted to surround himself in Yori and his hotel room was as close as he could get for now.

When he let himself in the room with the keycard he was given, the blond noticed that Yori's work dress shoes were still by the door and his keys and wallet were still on his dresser. Boruto peeled off his black sandals that all ninja seemed to prefer to wear and he placed them next to Yori's shiny shoes. It looked horrifyingly domestic and it created an achy, warm feeling in the blonds' chest. He wanted this domesticity with this man for forever.

"Sunshine? Is that you?" A terribly familiar voice called out. Boruto noted that Yori wasn't in bed, so he must be in the on suite bathroom. The bathroom itself proved the hotels newness. The old hotels in Konoha had communal bathrooms and Boruto hated every one of them. "Sunshine, I hope that's you, I don't want another run in with the custodial staff."

"No, Bunny, it's me," Boruto called back, now wondering what in the heck happened with the custodial staff.

"Good, come in here."

"Are you taking a dump?" Boruto called back.

"Okay, I'm not that disgusting. Just come in here." Boruto laughed and opened the closed bathroom door, which he assumed Yori closed out of habit since no one else was around.

Boruto was greeted with the sight of Yori soaking in the tub, suds all around him. Boruto never knew the image of a bubble bath could be so arousing, but it always seemed like Yori could do the improbable with him.

Yori raised a dark eyebrow at the beautiful man in front of him who was standing in the doorway just blatantly staring at him. "You wanna take a picture?" Yori joked, raising a handful of bubbles to his mouth and blowing them toward his beloved.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" Boruto asked, mouth dry. "Cuz it's working."

Yori laughed. "If I was trying to seduce you, you would know it. Come on and join me."

Boruto raised an eyebrow at the older man. He noted that Yori's knee caps were sticking out of the water because the tub was too small, every slight movement causing the water to overflow. "You can barely fit in there by yourself, how do you expect both of us to fit in there? Especially since I'm taller than you."

Yori rolled his eyes. "We'll make it fit somehow."

"I think I heard that in a porno once," Boruto retorted and then quickly dodged the shampoo bottle that was thrown at him.

"Get in the damn water, you pervert," Yori commanded, spreading his legs wider as if to make room for the younger man between them. Boruto noted that his dark body hair became even darker because of the water, making the small hair strands stick to his skin. Boruto licked his lips, distracted by the miles of pale, naked skin in front of him.

"Sunshine," Yori sang as he made his hand dance through the water in front of his lap, where he wanted the young blond to sit.

Boruto's face turned scarlet, but he started stripping away his close because he was still comfortable in front of Yori. He didn't do it slowly like a strip tease; he took off his clothes like he was getting in the shower. Black and pink jacket fell tot the floor with a clink noise when the zipper hit the light colored tile floor. Next went his white v-neck t-shirt, fluttering to the floor to the ground softly. Next went his track pants, the drawstring making it easy to take off but they caught on his muscular thighs, needing a little push before they fell down all the way to his ankles where he could just step gently out of them, the black fabric a pool on the ground. His tan, calloused fingertips danced under the elastic waistband of his pink boxers that were decorated with yellow flowers. When he looked up, he was met with the sight of Yori staring at him. When their eyes locked, Boruto trembled. Boruto dropped his boxers; Yori licked his lips. Boruto's skin trembled in excitement.

Yori scooted as far back in the tub as he possibly could, knees bent, the only empty spot still in his lap. Boruto nervously stepped into the warm sudsy water and sat almost completely in Yori's lap, back to chest. His ass brushed against a slightly hard piece of anatomy that they both ignored out loud, but Boruto's body responded to instantly, giving him a little problem of his own. The blonds' knees were sticking out of the water greatly, being taller than Yori with a lot less room in the already small tub. Yori wrapped his pale arms around the chest of the man in his lap. Boruto leaned back in his embrace, leaning his head on the brunette's shoulders.

The two sat in silence for a bit, just enjoying each other's presence alone with the warm water surrounding them, the bubbles around them slowly dying.

"Tell me something about you that I don't already know," Boruto whispered, the calm atmosphere of the bathroom being to delicate to break with loud words.

"There's a lot of thing you don't know about me," Yori murmured back, leaning forward and kissing the blonds scarred cheeks.

"Tell me anything," Boruto quietly said back, clutching the older man's slightly smaller hands between his own, turning to putty beneath his kisses like always, even if they were only cheek kisses.

Yori hummed and started to gently caress the tough skin of Boruto's hands beneath his own. Yori wondered what training he went through to have such rough skin on his hands, but not on his heart. Yori finally decided on some secret thing that Boruto didn't know about him. Thinking about it, there was a lot that Sunshine didn't know about him, but he let the thought slip. "I believe in dragons."

Boruto laughed, having expected something slightly serious. Yori liked the blonds' laugh, twinkling like shattering glass. Yori always liked things that could destroy him. "Really?" Boruto asked, eyes lit up, but Yori couldn't see form their seating position.

"Doesn't your father summon talking toads from like, another world or something? And you're trying to tell me that you doubt the possible existence of dragons?"Boruto snickered, but he couldn't find a fault in anything Yori said.

"You've got me there."

"Do you know how to summon toads?" Yori asked out of pure curiosity and Boruto's happy mood plummeted. It was amazing what little thing could completely destroy his mood. His father would always be something that brought him down, especially since the topic was about the things his father was supposed to have taught him.

"No," He answered, voice soft and fragile. Yori hated the mere sound of it. "My father never had enough time to teach me how to obtain a Summoning Contract with the toads and I didn't want to learn it from anyone else. My father hadn't even taught me how to create the Rasengan; my genin sensei did that." He felt so empty to think about all the lost opportunities he had with his father because of the Hokage position, but Boruto loved his village more than anything. "As I aged, I understood why my father had to give up the time with his family to keep the village safe and in peace, but just because you understand something, doesn't necessarily change the way you feel. I understood that he needed to protect the village, being the strongest shinobi in Konoha, but the dark thoughts lingered, ya know? Maybe if I had been a better son he would've made more time for me. Maybe I was too smart, or too much like him, or not enough like him. Something had to be wrong with me that he wouldn't spend time with me. I was always jealous of my friend Shikadai because his father is my father's advisor, but Shikamaru always made time for his son, no matter what. He would be home at night and wake up in their home every morning."

Yori started kissing the blonds neck, trying to bring Boruto's mind out of the dark thoughts that frequently plagued him. The action brought him back to the present, but the dark thoughts were always there in the back of his mind, lingering, waiting for any time to take control.

"Tell me something about you," Yori murmured into his scarred skin.

Bortuo thought for a minute, trying to find some super secret within himself that no one else knew about and he came up blank. "I'm a giant momma's boy," He blurted out. It wasn't some giant secret, but sometimes it was the little things that were worth sharing.

Yori nodded, looking one hundred percent serious. "Makes sense."

Yori shrugged. "You just look like a big momma's boy. It might be all the pink."

"Eat shit, Bunny."

"Tell me something I don't know about you," Boruto asked again, reaching out to touch Yori's hairy, knobby knee. Maybe he liked Yori's body hair because he himself had so little, the tiny blond hairs all over his body appearing invisible unless you looked really closely. Maybe it was just the long dark hairs screamed pure man, and Bortuo liked that.

Yori thought for a second, absentmindedly twirling his hands through lukewarm water.

"When I was around your age, I was married," Yori stated, causing Boruto to freeze. Yori either didn't notice or didn't care because he continued on. "It wasn't my baby momma, it was girl I had dated throughout school. Back home, we go to school until we're sixteen, not like you kids in Konoha, and you can also get married at sixteen since you become of age. I loved her, that's no doubt, but I didn't love myself back then. You see, back then I pretended to be straight. I'm not completely gay, but I'm not completely straight either, and some days I think that's harder to admit to yourself than being completely one or the other. Throughout our marriage, I had all these doubts on my sexuality and I wouldn't talk to her about it and eventually that doubt ate away at our relationship. We divorced when were 18 and I don't regret it, cuz even with the love we didn't fit right, but some days I wonder 'what if?'"

"She's married now and she's happy and I'm happy," when he said that he looked down at the blond in his lap and shot him w radiant smile and confidently squeezed his arm. Yori's look didn't reassure him, self doubt floating around his head. A lifetime of being not quite good enough had placed his self confidence in a dark corner he doubted it would ever come out of. "Sometimes you can't help wondering, even when you are happy." Yori looked down at Boruto, and Boruto could tell that he wasn't there, in that bathroom with him, but he was looking at an alternate universe where he was still with his first love.

"Sometimes wondering what could have been ruins the now," Bortuo whispered aloud, as he started picking the skin around his fingernails. Yori hummed in agreement, leaning forward to kiss Boruto's lightly freckled shoulder.

They sat there, in the stillness of the impersonal, temporary bathroom, the only sounds around them the dripping of the leaky bathtub faucet and their shallow breathing.

"Tell me something about you," Yori asked into the quietness of the room.

"I love you," Boruto stated confidently, voice even because he knew how he felt. Back to Yori's chest, he didn't see his facial expression.

Yori sighed and leaned forward to rest his forehead on the back of the blonds' head, breath tickling the tiny blond hairs there. "Oh, Sunshine, I love you, too."

Hearing his Bunny say that should have made him happy, but for some reason a stone was placed on his heart.

Boruto woke up in a soft bed with soft sheets all around him, white and blinding and temporary. A warm figure was beside him, stealing the majority of the blankets and hogging most of the bed. A soft smile flitted across his face at the thought of his lover lying next to him.

Boruto sat up, the pristine sheet falling down to his waist, revealing his uncovered skin. Boruto blushed at the remembrance of climbing into bed with Yori after drying off after the bath, not even bothering to put clothes on, They had both were sleepy after their bath and why hide from the person who knew him the best?

A throaty voice spoke, "That blush looks phenomenal on you. I should make you blush more." The red color adorning his face darkened and a soft hand reached out to caress the warm skin. Boruto closed his eyes when it made contact with his scarred cheeks, thumb rubbing in small circles.

"You're so beautiful," Yori breathed and Boruto opened his eyes to look at the lover that was caressing him. He felt the softness of his hands and the lines by his eyes and around his mouth—all small signs of age but all present and all a reminder.

"Most people tell me I'm beautiful like my father with his eyes and hair or gorgeous like my mother with her face, but I've never been called beautiful just for myself before," Boruto told Yori, a fact that had drilled doubt into him, reminding him he could never escape the restraints society had placed on him because of his parents. He was strong because they had been, he was beautiful because they had been— nothing was ever his alone.

"Fuck 'em," Yori said, grasping Boruto's slender jaw in his hands. "Fuck them all. Yeah, your parents are beautiful and brilliant people, but dammit, you are the reason you're you. They don't get to take credit for everything about you. You are beautiful not only because of your genetics, but theres this damn light about you that you have, and only you. I don't think I have ever felt this way about another living person. You, you are so beautiful and pure and alight and when you look at me sometimes, you light me up inside with liquid sunshine and —."

Boruto cut him off with a kiss, hand gripping the back of his neck and pressing their lips together hard. Yori's hand started tangling in his shoulder length hair and he gripped tight at the roots and Boruto let out a high pitched squeak and Yori kissed him harder, lips slightly chapped against his own but that was alright as he liked the rough feeling. When Yori pulled away and started attacking his neck, using lips and teeth and Boruto was left breathing hard and fast.

Yori pushed him on to his back and placed his leg between both of Boruto's and they looked into each other's eyes and he asked, "Is this okay?"

And between harsh breaths, Boruto said, "Make me yours. I want to have a piece of you for forever."

This time, when Boruto woke, he awoke to the feeling of another's skin pressed up tightly against his and soiled sheets all around him. He sleepily turned to look at the alarm clock on the side table where he was facing. The numbers read 7:10 in a slightly ominous green light.

Then it clicked.

"FUCK!" Bortuo yelled, pushing his sleeping man away from him and standing up on the bad and jumping over the grown man onto the ground. This action pulled at the light skin on his stomach, which was covered in dry come and Boruto sent a disgusted look to the mess on his body. "That's just gross."

"Why did I just wake up to you crawling over me?" Yori asked in nhis sleep filled voice, still lying on his back.

"I promised Hima I would be there at dinner because she's bringing a boy and I am SO late… where are my clothes?!"

"Bathroom," Yori said, stretching out an arm and pointing. Boruto rushed into the room with legs weak and pulled on his underwear and pants before cursing and wetting a rag to get the mess off of his stomach.

"Next time remind me to get this shit off me before it dries," Boruto called out, receiving a chuckle in answer. When he finally got it all off, he quickly pulled on his shirt and jacket and rushed back out of the room.

"Next time, huh?" Yori smiled up at him and Boruto had to stop for a quick kiss before he ran out of the room.

"Next time," Boruto promised as he pulled on his shoes and ran out the door.

Boruto ninja ran the next fifteen minutes to his home, climbing across the top of buildings to reserve time. He cursed his luck, his self, and he cursed Yori for him being late (though he would have still done it all over again).

Bolt arrived at the house when his family was standing on the porch with the mysterious boyfriend. It seemed like he was leaving, as Boruto was an hour and thirty minutes late to dinner.

His mother and father's smiling faces told Boruto that they approved of this guy, who he still hadn't seen the face of. All he could see of the guy was brunette hair in a tight ponytail.

"Hey, sorry I'm late— Shikadai?!" Boruto asked loudly when the brunette turned around when he heard his friends voice.

"Sup, dude," Shikadai nodded in greeting, cool look on his face.

Boruto scrutinized the Nara in front of him, looking him up and down. Shikadai stood up to his full height (a drastic five inches taller than his friend), not backing down from the Older Brother look he was getting.

Bortuo shrugged. "I was nervous about Himawari dating, but it's just Shika. We probably should be more concerned about Hima hurting him than him hurting her." Hinata giggled.

Staring at the faces of his family, he could tell that over all, they were mad at him. His mother was forgiving but gave him a disappointed look. Himawari glared at him, cold and steady, mad at her older brother that always broke his promises. His father was looking at him with an angry look.

"Where have you been running off to, Bolt?" Naruto's voice was strong and stern and unforgiving.

"I was busy with a friend," Boruto said to placate his father, who huffed at him. He knew when his son was blowing him off.

To stop a fight out in public, Hinata placed a hand gently on her husband's chest. "Shikadai, it was nice to see you again. Stop by anytime, and please extend that invitation to your parents. My husband and I are glad that you are the man dating our daughter. She is in good hands with you." Shikadai and Himawari turned red, but tightened their grip on each other's hands. "Have a good night," Hinata told him as she dragged her husband inside.

When the older adults left the group, a silence fell over the three.

Himawari turned to her brother and said words that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"How come whenever anything is supposed to be about another person for once, you make it about you?" She didn't even let him reply; she just kissed Shikadai's cheek and stomped inside the house. Boruto stared after her sadly, guilt in his stomach.

"You fucked up, Boruto," Shikadai said as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"I know that, Shika," Boruto snapped at his childhood friend who just raised an eyebrow at his tone.

"I hope whoever girl you fucked was worth disappointing your sister," Shikadai commented. Boruto froze, dread filling his stomach. No, no, no how did he know? Did he have some sort of superpower? Did he see him with Yori and assume? Or was it the Nara smarts?

"You have a necklace of hickies," Shakadai said as he pointed at the blond's neck. Boruto turned red and shifted his neckline to try valiantly hiding the marks. Shikadai chuckled and turned around, starting to walk away.

Boruto decided then and there that he could be open with his oldest friend. Even with years of not being as close as they once were, he knew he could trust the Nara with anything.

"It wasn't a girl," He called out after his friend, voice strong and confident.

Shikadai Nara, one of the most graceful boys from their Academy class and jonin at the age of fifteen, stumbled. He turned around to face his childhood best friend with wide eyes.

"Shit," was all that he said.

A/N: SORRY I HAVENT BEEN UPDATING I'VE HAD A NEW JOB AND SCHOOL WAS HARD AND I AM SO SORRY.

I HOPE YOU LIKE THE NEW CHAPTER. TELL ME WHAT YOU LIKE ABOUT IT; TELL ME WHAT YOU DON'T LIKE.

Also I do not know how often I will be able to update, but it will at least be soon.


	8. Chapter 8

Boruto woke up to a silent house. He lied there in his bed on his back, eyes on his ceiling. The ceiling was a plain white, a contrast to his blue walls. No marks marred the plain surface. Boruto remembers a small memory from long ago, one that maybe could have been false, of him with little feet running throughout this house, when it was still brand new and empty. No furniture anywhere and the hard wood floor still smelled bitter and pungent. He remembered running from his dad, his shrieks of laughter bouncing off the walls, his father chasing after him in a game of tag. His mother watched them run around, large with Himawari still, his baby sister not having seen the light of day yet. He remembers his father catching up to him and lifting him into his arms and whispering into his ear, "This is our new home. This is where you will feel safe and loved, forever. I promise."

Boruto turned to his side and got out of bed.

He padded down the hall to the bathroom he shared with his sister. He quickly brushed his teeth, hoping the action would breathe some life into him. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he noticed the bags under his eyes and the pale quality of his skin. He spat out the toothpaste foam from his mouth and quickly placed his knotted hair in a bun atop his head using the hair tie he carried on his wrist.

He walked downstairs to the kitchen, his gait slow and sluggish. He was still shrugging the sleep from his body. He grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit in the center of the kitchen table. His mother was adamant on her children eating fresh fruits and vegetables daily, always stating the nutritional facts of the meals she made. Boruto believed his father would live off of only ramen if he could.

He bit into the skin of the red apple, a loud crunching noise echoing throughout the Uzumaki house. No other noise met his ears. Boruto assumed his mother was out doing something, maybe helping at the Academy or on a mission around Konoha. After Himawari and he both graduated from the Academy, his soft spoken mother became an active shinobi again, but as she was the Hokage's wife, she could not leave Konoha's borders for a mission.

Crunching on his apple, the blond assumed that his father was at the Hokage Tower, as he usually was. Boruto didn't know if he even spent the night last night after the dinner with Shikadai. The younger blond had gone straight to his room to stew in his sadness alone.

His normally bright and bubbly sister, who always woke him up early to train with her whenever they were both free (despite her surpassing him in rank), was nowhere in the house either. His normally overly forgiving sister (a trait she inherited from both their parents; a trait that he didn't) woke up early and left the house on a day she didn't have a mission, just to avoid her piece of shit older brother.

Boruto got up to throw away the apple he had been crunching on. Only half of it had been eaten, but he didn't feel hungry anymore.

A knock from the front door called him to it.

"Comin'," Boruto greeted, voice gruff still from sleep. His socks made him glide over the hardwood in a true Hyuuga manner. When he reached the oak front door that was in front of the stairs, he jerked it open.

"Hey," his genin sensei greeted him with a large smile on his face. Boruto internally debated the pros and cons of just slamming the door in the brunettes face. He was surly here for a reason; not many people came around the Uzumaki house to just hang out, especially when it was only Boruto in the building. Over time, he had noticed a distance between him and the people he was supposed to be close with. It was as if the people he was closest to weren't necessarily there because of him; they were there because of his parents. He couldn't even make friends without his parents influence. Most of his friends were the children of his parents, proving his point.

'"Yo," Boruto greeted his sensei lazily and stepped to the side to let his sensei in. Konohamaru peeled off his blue ninja sandals and left them neatly in the front entryway of the Uzumaki home. He had been there many a times throughout Boruto's life, from when he was still Big Brother Konohamaru to an Academy instructor to Boruto's genin sensei, so he knew how Hinata liked the shoes at the front entrance to be placed.

The blond walked into the kitchen, his sensei silently following him. Bolt quickly grabbed the teapot and filled it with water before setting it on the electric stove. Boruto made himself appear busy, grabbing mugs and green tea leaves and the honey he knew Konohamaru preferred to sweeten in his tea. Konohamaru settled down into one of the wooden chairs at the dining table and watched the young Uzumaki man. Boruto pretended like he couldn't feel his stare drilling holes into his back.

"I want to tell you," Konohmaru started, his voice low and soft, unlike how he usually sounded. Boruto kept grabbing items as if he hadn't heard him. "I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you."

Boruto placed the little compact bags of tea into the stark white mugs. When the kettle started giving out a loud screeching noise, the blond calmly grabbed the handle and poured the hot water into the cups. He stared at the water as the leaves started changing the color slowly.

Boruto doesn't ask what exactly his sensei is proud of because he doesn't want to ruin the moment or the lightness his statement gives him. The previous night had beaten him down too far; he was willing to take anything that would improve his mood. Instead, he mixes in too much honey into his sensei's cup (the way he knows the Sarutobi likes it) and sets the mugs down on the table. He gently slides into the seat across from the brunette and encircles his hands around the white mug. He doesn't drink from the green liquid, just lets it warm his hands.

Boruto doesn't say anything for a while and he stares at the man in front of him, which makes the brunette squirm under the heaviness of his stare. Boruto is suddenly hit with the memory of when Konohamaru-sensei used to just be Big Brother Konohamaru. He remembers being small, barely up to his sensei's waist, and the brunette would throw him up in the air and catch him and Boruto would smile so hard his face would hurt.

Boruto is automatically hit with the thought that that all eventually stopped. When the young Uzumaki joined the Academy, and later became part of Konohamaru's genin team, Konohamaru started distancing himself from him. He became less of an older brother figure and more of any other adult in his life— there, yet distant in some way. Professional.

Boruto drank his tea quietly and wondered why he could never just let himself be happy.

"Is there a reason you stopped by, Konohamaru-sensei?" Boruto asked in an even voice. He watched his normally easygoing sensei tense at such an impolite statement, but Boruto was tired after his fight with Himawari last night and waking up to an empty house. Some things took a toll on your soul.

"I feel like I never see you enough, especially since you have been out on medical leave," Konohamaru stated. He caressed the rim of his white mug with his fingertips to focus on something other than his student's face. "You've always been my hardest student to keep up with. As time has gone on, I feel as if you've pushed me away."

"Sensei," Boruto stated. He opened his mouth to continue on, as if to defend himself from what his sensei was insinuating, but the Sarutobi was correct; Boruto had been pushing him away. Boruto had been pushing most of the people he loved away for years.

"I understand that you're growing up, becoming a man in your own right. I understand that that means you won't be as close to the people you were once close with when you were younger. But don't forget that these people love you. Don't just push people away to preserve your own feelings. I know you, Bolt. I understand that a childhood of your father leaving you behind makes you want to keep most people at arm's length, but please, let us in."

His sensei was right. Boruto knew that he tended to keep those he cared about at arm's length. He let them in, but not too far. He felt like he always was pretending around them; pretending to be better than he really was as a son or a friend or even as a ninja. He felt like he had to pretend in so many aspects of his life. Why did he have to hide himself from everybody?

That was why his connection with Yori was just so _weird_. He never let anyone in that easily anymore, not since he was younger. His father placing him second (hell, maybe third or even fourth; his mother and Himawari seemed to come before him) after the village creating some long term affects to his mind that he did not believe he could ever truly overcome.

But when he first met Yori there was something that he knew he could trust in the man. Something that he knew would never hurt him. Or maybe it was because he knew it would hurt him. Their situation would not allow them to have a happy ending, no matter how much Boruto tried to ignore it. Yori, even though Bortuo felt he completed him in some way, was not from the Hidden Leaf Village. He wasn't a ninja. He wasn't a woman. Boruto didn't know which aspect of his lover would upset his family and friends more. He refused to let himself think about it.

Boruto jerked to his feet, his chair scraping across the wooden floor boards with a low screech. Konohmaru also jumped to his feet and held out his hands in a defensive manner.

"Boruto, I'm sorry if I upset you. I just wanted to speak to you, man to man. Please—," Konohamaru seemed to plead with his old student, blue eyes desperate. Boruto turned on his heel and walked out of the room, not saying anything to his sensei. The brunette rushed after him and quickly gripped his shoulder to get him to stop walking. "Bolt, please—!"

"Yo, sensei, I was just going to change into some sparring clothes, stop manhandling me," Boruto complained with a pout. The Sarutobi blushed because he had misunderstood the blonds' actions, looking away from his student in the process and focusing on the white mugs of now cold green tea. He tightened his grip on Boruto before letting go.

"Hurry up! You're out of shape! It would do you some good to spar with your trusted sensei," Konohamaru nodded along with his own words, as if it was his idea for them to go and train in the first place. Boruto rolled his blue eyes at the older man's weird words.

"I'm not out of shape!" His voice was hard and defensive. Konohamaru laughed.

"You're always out of shape!"

The teenager stomped up the stairs to his bedroom to change into some older training clothes, the brash laughter of his sensei following after him.

Boruto was tired. He was exhausted. His body hurt in places he never knew could hurt. He cats numerous cuts littering his body. When his mother saw the deep one on his cheek, she was going to _flip_.

Boruto couldn't keep the smile off his face.

Something about training with his genin sensei made his mood elevate. The day had started off dark and uninviting; now at midday he felt like he could take on anything.

"Hey there, Sunshine," A familiar voice called out to him. Boruto's smile stretched farther across his face, cheeks straining.

"What's up, old man?" The blond teased when he came face to face with the figure of his lover, who had been walking on the sidewalk in the opposite direction of him.

Yori rolled his eyes at the words of his sweetheart. "Hush your mouth before I make it hush in front of god and everyone on this sidewalk," Yori threatened, his voice dropping. Boruto shivered down to his toes.

Yori then noticed exactly what was up with the young man's face. "Boruto, what the fuck did you do?" Yori asked quickly as he reached out his hand to caress the man's scarred cheek. Boruto jerked back a bit at the pain his touch elicited. Yori gripped Boruto's jaw tightly so he wouldn't jerk away from his touch. Boruto ended up melting into it.

"Did you get mugged?" Yori asked, dark eyebrows rose skeptically. Bolt understood that he meant it in a teasing way, but after years of being doubted on his own physical skills by those around him, Yori's words pierced his heart slightly.

"Do you doubt my physical skill?" Boruto asked with a hard edge to his voice. It seemed that the bad mood from the start of the day could come back quickly at any time on anyone, even his Yori. He was tired of so many people insinuating that he wasn't good enough in anything he did. He was tired of people saying that he earned everything from his parents, that he didn't do anything for himself.

Still, he didn't move out of Yori's strong grip.

Yori sighed as if he was disappointed in the teenager in front of him. "I doubt nothing about you," Yori said confidently. "You never have to prove yourself to me." Boruto blushed strongly, not used to people having such confidence in him. His entire face became a bright red and he knew that Yori could feel the heat radiating off his skin. His father used to tell him he blushed like his mother— bright and prominent. Boruto wondered if that's what had attracted his father to his mother. He was pretty sure that wasn't it; he had heard their story in its entire fairy tale glory. He speculated if they ever questioned what life would have been like if they hadn't married each other, if they had married others instead. His father probably wondered what if it he had married Sarada's mother instead, or even Inojin's. He doubted his mother ever imagined a life without his father in it.

Suddenly a man shoulder checked Boruto, agitated that the two men were standing in the middle of the sidewalk. He stomped by, turning around and glaring at the two as he walked away. "Get out of the way, faggots," A deep voice ground out as he passed by.

"Oh, go fuck yourself, you piece of shit," Yori called back. He made a rude hand gesture and grabbed the shoulders of the taller man. Turning toward Boruto, he asked, "Are you alright, Sunshine?" His voice was concerned and his touch was tender, but Boruto felt cold.

Did the guy recognize who he was? Were he and Yori really acting too much like a couple in the middle of the street? What if someone he knew saw him? What if it got out that the son of the Hokage was romantically with an outsider? What if someone told his father? He knew how gossip passed in Konoha; by the end of the day the story would be that he was being penetrated in the middle of the damn road!

Boruto quickly jerked his body away from the warmth of the brunette's. He missed the feeling of the man against him, but he was more concerned with the crushing weight on his chest and the intense paranoia he was feeling.

"Boruto?" Yori asked. He sounded sad and let down, but it also sounded like he expected it in a way. Boruto couldn't think of what he his actions would do to Yori himself, or their relationship.

Yori reached out to touch the young blond. In turn, Boruto slapped his hand away, skin meeting skin with a loud crack. The pale skin on Yori's forearm was painted with a bright red mark.

"Just— just _stop,"_ Boruto practically begged, his hands shaking as he ran them through his shoulder length hair. He was anxious that every person around knew that he liked men, that they could tell what he had done last night and with whom. He adjusted the neckline of his white tee shirt to try and cover up the marks Yori had left on his neck the night before. "I-I-I have to go. I gotta go."

Yori clenched his hands, tightening them in themselves until the skin on his knuckles and fingertips turned a solid white. "Why must you keep hiding yourself, Sunshine? Why do you keep doing this to yourself?"

"The world's not ready for this!" Boruto practically yelled, his voice rough and scratchy. At a later point he would be glad that the street was unusually bare. At that moment, he didn't notice anything except the fury inside of him and the man in front of him.

"The world may never be ready for all that you are," Yori said, his voice confident and strong but the expression on his face was one of distress. "Are you going to let them back you into a corner? The world will trample you and everything you are if you let them."

Boruto started running his hands through his hair. When they caught on small tangles, he yanked at them. He had ripped out some hair on accident, but he paid it no mind.

"I gotta go," Boruto said with a wavering voice. This time when the blond tried to leave, Yori didn't try and stop him. Somewhere deep down inside himself, Boruto wished he would have.

Boruto holed himself up in his room and played wall ball. He ignored the concerned voice of his mother from the other side of the door, her quiet voice lightly pleading for him to speak to her or to at least come down for dinner. He heard Himawari's soft footsteps stop in front of his door before continuing on to her own room or down the stairs (she did this multiple times). His father never came to him. He had to be home to realize that there was something wrong.

It had been days since the fight with Yori. It had been longer since his fight with Himawari. He had spoken to neither one of them, choosing to keep to himself in his room than confront the issues that he had inadvertently created.

Boruto passed the time by playing wall ball, even though he knew the rhythmic thumping it caused was probably driving his family insane. When he was hungry or had to use the restroom, he snuck around like some prisoner in his own home under the guise of darkness. When he returned to his self imprisonment, he continued to play wall ball, scared to be alone with his own thoughts and emotions.

He figured out early on that throwing and catching a ball could easily distract him. It would keep the dark thoughts out of reach— though they never really went away. He refused to let himself focus too much on them.

Throw the ball— _thunk_ — catch it easily. _Don't think._ Roll wrist, throw, hit the wall, catch. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Boruto felt like he was slowly losing his mind. Had he even had it in the first place? Probably not.

Throw, thunk, catch. Throw, clunk—.

The door to Boruto's room swung open with a hard slam. There was now a giant hole where the handle met the wall, marring the slate blue walls. His mother was going to _kill_ him even though he didn't even gash the damn wall. He knew she was going to force him to fix it himself.

"What the _fuck_?" Boruto called out, jerk up from his slouching position on his bed. The ball he had thrown came back at him, but he didn't move to catch it, instead letting it fly past him and fall behind his bed, never to be found again.

"Your stupid ball throwing is driving me insane!" The angry form of his baby sister was standing in the doorway, thin arms crossed. Himawari had the soft features of their mom paired and she was usually similar to Hinata in temperament, too. Right now she reminded Bolt so much of their father when he was angry— all raging fury. Her whisker marks even seemed to get longer when she was mad, too, but Boruto believed that was a trick of the light. At least he hoped it was a trick of the light.

"Go away," Boruto groaned, throwing an arm over his face. The vision of his sister was bringing forth the thoughts and emotions he was trying to avoid.

Himawari practically vibrated in her skin. "Don't tell me what to do!"

"Real mature, Hima." Boruto spat the words out like lead as he forced himself into a sitting position on the edge of his bed. The soft cotton crinkled under his shifting weight. Boruto rubbed out a crease in the sheet, quietly desperate to not view how his words affected his baby sister.

He barely heard her footsteps as she glided across the room. After being trained in the Hyuuga fighting style for the majority of her life (ever since she awakened her Byakugan at the young age of six, the other Hyuugas treated her as if she was the second coming of the Sage of Six Paths and trained her to the best of their abilities), her steps were as soft as a feather. He felt the bed dip down next to him, the crinkling of the sheets beneath her bottom. He stared at her one yellow one teal socked feet next to his bare ones. She awkwardly wiggled her toes, not used to the silence coming from her brother. Boruto thought about how she had left his door blatantly open; he was too emotionally exhausted to complain to her about it.

"Ask for my forgiveness," Himawari commanded in a strong voice. She reminded Boruto of their father, who always felt as if he was in the right. In this case, Himawari was in the right, but she didn't need to _demand_ an apology from him.

"Are you going to give me forgiveness, even if I ask for it?" Boruto asked tersely, shuffling his naked feet on the hardwood flooring.

A silence blanketed over them, heavy like the old quilt in the living room their mother used to place on them when they fell asleep on the couch for an afternoon nap, years and years ago. A large part of him ached at the absence of their childhood; he shook his head and made himself move on from the memories that felt like a lifetime ago.

Himawari started popping her knuckles, from pointer finger to pinky. Both he and Himawari did that when they felt nervous, though neither of their parents did that. When she spoke, her voice wavered a bit; if he hadn't been raised with her, he would have never noticed it. He didn't comment on it. "I've forgiven Dad every single time he broke a promise, every time he didn't show up to a birthday party or even an evening meal. I have forgiven him for all the days he couldn't be home with his family because he was too busy with work. I feel like I have spent my entire life forgiving him. I am good at forgiveness, Bolt, but I can only forgive someone when they ask to be forgiven. Dad always asks."

Boruto felt an arrow pierce through his heart. He felt anguish unlike any other. In his sister's eyes, he was lower than their good for nothing father. He had become worse than a father who was barely ever there. This was his worst nightmare.

The words started tumbling out of his mouth. "I meant to be there for you, I really did. You're my responsibility, ever since you were born. Everything I do should be for you. I'm sorry I've been distant recently. I am so sorry that I have been pushing you to the side so much. I-I will start making more time for you, like I used to. I'll stop staying out so late. I-I'll—." Boruto was running his hands roughly through his hair, gripping them tightly at the ends. He ignored the stinging pain the action gave him.

Himawari grabbed him by the forearms and forced his hands out of his hair, slightly concerned for his generally well being if this is how he coped with his emotions, just taking it out on his body. "Bolt, I understand that you have a life that doesn't revolve around me and that's okay. When I ask you to do something for me because it was important to me, I expect you to do it. I expect you to do it because you love me, not because you feel like I am your 'responsibility'. And when you fuck up and don't show up to an important family dinner where I introduce you to my boyfriend, I expect you to ask for forgiveness. And when you ask, I will grant you forgiveness. Because I love you."

Boruto leans his head on his sister's slim shoulder, his hair falling all around her. She paid it no mind.

When he spoke, his voice wavered. "Forgive me."

"Forgiven," Is all Himawari said in reply.

He snuck out of his window at midnight that night. Himawari and he spent the evening hanging out together in the living room, playing video games. Himawari, Hinata, and Boruto ate dinner together and laughed loudly to make up for the empty chair on Hinata's left. He believed that their mother was glad she wasn't living in a war zone any more. No one mentioned the absence that weighed down the room.

When it was night time and the women of the family went to sleep after an hour of them playing an old board game from their childhood, Boruto pretended to get ready for bed. When he stopped hearing movements from the rooms beside him, he creaked open his window and scurried out as if he was in the Academy again.

He knew his father knew that he was sneaking out. The ANBU that were always stationed outside their family home (that the Uzumaki family always pretended not to notice) would inform the Hokage. Boruto knew that his father wouldn't do anything to stop him or follow him; he snuck out throughout his childhood and his father never addressed it. His father wasn't a very hands on parent.

Boruto jumped from building to building, scaling the sides when needed. He used his years of ninja training to keep out of civilian view. They never understood why shinobi couldn't just walk around like normal people. Eventually he landed on the balcony he set out to find. The figure of his lover was on it, smoking.

Yori didn't greet him when he softly landed on the concrete flooring next to him. Yori just kept smoking his cigarette, looking off into the distance. Boruto became anxious at this, scared that maybe their fight today made things go a little too far. When Bolt reached out to touch the older man's arm, Yori didn't jerk away from his touch like the blond expected him to. Instead Yori placed his arm around the form of the taller boy and brought him close to his body. Boruto closed his eyes and leaned into his warmth.

"Yori…" Boruto trailed off. Yori didn't even look at him, didn't react to him, he just kept smoking.

Boruto snuggles into his neck with his eyes closed, just enjoying the feeling of skin on skin. An ominous feeling was washing over him, but he didn't know what for. Yori just kept staring into the darkness, slowly smoking.

Eventually he spoke. "You are your own man, Sunshine. I want you to remember that for when I leave. Don't hide yourself away for others."

Boruto jerked away from his older lover. His heart was on the verge of breaking. "What do you mean when you leave? What's going on?" Boruto internally begged for the older man to look at him, but Yori kept looking forward. Instantly, the blond got angry and grabbed Yori's arm and jerked his arm to make him look at him in the eye. Yori accidentally dropped his cigarette over the side of the hotel, the ember quickly dying. When Boruto's blue eyes met Yori's brown ones, he noticed all the sadness hidden under the surface. "What the hell is going on? I thought you loved me!"

A pitying tone took over Yori's voice, but he didn't know if Yori pitied Boruto or himself or the whole situation itself. "Sunshine, baby, I never told you I was staying. I'm here on a work trip, and my three weeks are just about up."

The realization struck Boruto like one of Sarada's punches— fast and quick and powerfully. Somewhere along the line, he had tricked himself into believing that Yori could be the one thing he got to keep out of the whole mess that was his life. Boruto believed that maybe he would have a future with the man standing in front of him. He had tricked himself into thinking this thing with Yori would last a year, ten years, a lifetime. In reality, it lasted about three weeks. Somewhere deep in his mind, he had believed that maybe, when he was ready, he would introduce Yori to his family and come out. Maybe after a while, the laws would change and they would be able to marry. Maybe they could have adopted kids of their own, a sibling to Bunny's daughter. Deep inside the blond, he had imagined a whole lifetime with Yori that he wouldn't allow himself to think of before the moment Yori reminded him that it wouldn't last.

It seemed that they were always doomed to fail. But he always knew that internally. He just didn't want to believe it.

A/N: Hey guys, so sorry it took me so long to update. At least I finally did! Life's been rough recently, and writing this fic made it a little better.

I hope you like the chapter. Tell me what you like or don't like in a review! We have about three chapters left before the story is done. I will be sad when it finally ends, but I will be so happy because that would mean this is the first full length fanfic I have ever completed.


	9. Chapter 9

Boruto woke up suddenly in the middle of the night. He lied tense in the arms of his unconscious lover, who (since he doesn't have the extensive ninja training that Boruto had) kept on snoozing. Yori's arm was placed over his stiff form, but Boruto easily removed it and glided out of the soft hotel bed. His carpeted socks made no noise on the carpeted flooring.

He quickly pulled back on his t-shirt and capri cut track pants before heading to the balcony. He gently slid open the glass door. He made sure Yori's breathing was still deep and even before he jumped down the balcony.

He arrived at the Hokage Tower within eight minutes. The front door was usually locked this time of night, but one of the ANBU guards let him in. It seemed that his father had been informed of his arrival.

He crawled down the dark hallway and up the dimly lit staircase until he reached the Hokage office. He let himself inside the office, the old oak doors screeching slightly in the calm night. The first thing he notices was his father sitting behind his desk, dark circles under his blue eyes. A pen was in his hand and he was signing paperwork. Looking at the three giant stacks beside the older blond, Boruto wondered why his father never used his army of shadow clones to do the paperwork so he could go home and sleep. His father always swore that he would never use shadow clones in the office because that was disrespectful, but he sent a shadow clone to be with his family. HE didn't understand how his father didn't see that as disrespectful to his own family. Boruto wondered if his father regretted their family as he was never home. He must have if he would rather do paperwork than be with his family.

"Bolt!" His father greeted sleepily, a small smile on his face. He looked like he was about to fall asleep on his paperwork, a line of drool trailing out of his mouth. "Hello, Hokage-sama," Boruto greeted, softly falling into the wooden seat in front of his father's desk. He ignored Naruto's flinch at being called Hokage-sama, but he was the one who asked him to call him that whenever they were at his place of work.

His father stared at him and Boruto stared back, royal blue eyes meeting a set of sapphire colored eyes. Naruto sent him a modest smile before quickly signing more paperwork. They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds between them was their breathing and the sound of the pen gliding across starched parchment.

After a few moments, Naruto gently placed down the pen he was using to write his signature. He folded his hands and placed all his attention on his son in front of him. Boruto wanted to squirm under the blond's hard stare, but he refused.

"Bolt," His father started, "Why are you here? I assume you didn't visit me suddenly at two in the morning to watch me finish my paperwork."

They stare at each other for a couple more moments before Boruto opens his mouth. "If mom was from another village, would you have left to be with her?"

Naruto stills at the question, and then he adopts a contemplative look on his face. The silence between them is heavy with the possibilities of other lifetimes. Boruto stares at the face of his father and noticed his face is starting to have lines around his eyes, age finally turning on him. Boruto always figured his father would have laugh lines before anything else, but this was just another physical reminder of the stress his father's job placed upon him.

When he answers, his voice is strong, but there is a hesitance in it, one people who weren't close to him wouldn't have noticed. "I would like to believe so. Yes."

Boruto doesn't bring up the hesitance in his voice or his father running his hands through his short hair. He stands up, making his chair scrape lightly on the ground. He nods to his father and tells him goodnight before quickly leaving the building.

They both know what he would have really chosen.

He woke up once again in the confines of his lovers arms. Yori was lightly stirring, his internal clock telling him it was time to get up and face the day. Boruto was exhausted, not only because of being up and about at two in the morning, but he was exhausted because he finally faced what the future would bring.

Yori leaned into the form in front of him and gently kissed his neck before retreating from his form. Yori stretched before he stood up and padded toward the bathroom. Boruto buried himself under the covers that were still warm from Yori's body heat and pretended he was asleep and that the world was perfect and that his lover was a Konoha villager and that he could continue being a chunin in his village's military force.

Yori padded out of the bathroom softly and started shucking off his night clothes. When he was standing there naked, he called out, "Sunshine, I can feel your eyes on me. Get up, lazy pants."

Boruto kicked off the white downy comforter from his body, throwing it onto the ground in a childish display. He lied there on the bed, the cold air wrapping around him. He watched his lover cloth himself in his normal business attire. He stepped into some dark pressed pants and tucked the ends of his white button up in them before buttoning his fly.

"You have to get up some time," Yori greeted out as he placed a green lined tie around his neck. He watched himself in the mirror as he tied it.

"Wear the red tie, Bunny," Boruto ground out, his voice rough with sleep. He felt as if he had a slight headache. It was either from stress or his lack of sleep, he couldn't tell. Maybe it was a mix of both.

Yori hummed and took off the green tie and instead switched it for the red one that he knew Sunshine preferred.

"How is this going to end well?" Boruto asked with emotion heavy in his voice. Yori kept fixing his tie before he calmly replied.

"It's not."

"We have options, don't we?"

Yori grabbed his dark socks and sat on the bed next to his Sunshine as he pulled them on. Boruto gently placed his hand on the other's forearm, slowing his movements. Yori sighed. "As I see it, we have only two choices: you leave with me or I stay in Konoha. I can't leave my daughter behind, Boruto; I can't stay in Konoha."

Boruto loved the man, but did he love him enough to leave everything behind? Leave his friends, his family, and his way of life behind, all for the owner of the most beautiful brown eyes he had ever seen?

Those brown eyes conveyed sadness, but understanding. "I would never ask you to leave the Hidden Leaf for me. I know how you love it so." Soft lips caressed Boruto's hand; scar on his upper lip touching all of the scars Boruto's hands had gained from shuriken practice over the years.

"But, if you can't leave, and I can't leave, then you knew from the beginning it would end like this," Boruto said accusingly. Yori nodded as he kissed up the blonds' bare arm. Yori kissed the freckle trail the sun had granted the blond with.

"Yes, I knew," Yori said in between kisses at his collar bone.

"What if I asked you to stay?" Boruto whispered into the silence of Yori's darkened inn room. Neither of them had turned on the lights yet and there was only a limited amount of sunlight coming in from the window. The older man stilled, and then pulled himself away from the blond. Boruto's eyes widened in fear and he reached to stop Yori from moving away, but the brunette's hands went to caress the eighteen year olds face.

"Then I would stay," Yori said confidently. Boruto's face broke out into a grin and he was about to tackle the other man into a kiss before he continues on. "I would stay and I would love you, but, Sunshine, I don't think I would love Konoha. I have a daughter at home who I rarely get to see after I left her mother; if I moved this far away I would never get to see her." Boruto's stomach dropped and tears began forming in his eyes. He understood the pain of a child left behind and he would wish that on no other child. "If I stayed in Konoha, I don't think I would be happy."

A sob broke free from Boruto, breath hitching and shaky. "Then ask me to go. Please. I can't do it unless you ask me."

Yori looked at his Sunshine reverently, looked at the desperation on his face. They both wanted to be kept together, but it seemed at this point only Yori knew what would happen. He shook his head, brown hair ruffling. "I would never ask you to leave, Sunshine. I could never, I love you too much. This has to be a decision you make on your own."

Boruto didn't know if he was too selfish, asking Yori to stay, or if Yori was too selfless, not asking Boruto to go.

Boruto leaned forward and kissed his love and tried to not focus on the inevitable loss they would soon put themselves through.

Boruto was glad that Yori couldn't see his face. Try as he might, the blue eyed beauty could not stop the tears from escaping.

Boruto and Yori had agreed that Bolt wouldn't spend the night so he could decide what he wanted to do. Would he leave with Yori or would he stay in Konoha? Naruto had traded in fatherhood to be the protector of Konoha, even when the older blond swore he hadn't. Boruto understood the pain of a child left behind like no other did (except maybe Sarada, but the older she became, the more her father stayed around, as if he was trying to make up for her childhood). He wouldn't wish Yori's child to ever feel like he had growing up, or how he did even when he was older.

Boruto tried to weasel a lunch date out of Yori, yet the brunette wouldn't give in. He wanted Boruto to decide on his life without the influence of Yori. The blond cursed how understanding his lover was.

His feet had brought him to his father. Even though his father wasn't around all that much, the man tended to give good advice. A lot of his friends' parents called it the Talk-no-justsu, whatever that meant.

He had even made an appointment to speak to his father, which probably alerted the man that he had some problems as he made room for him in his busy schedule. He was waiting in the waiting room until his name was called. Moegi was keeping an eye on him, but for once, he wasn't doing anything wrong. His mother also sent a bento box with him to give to his father when he told her he was visiting the old man.

A jonin left the room, nodding at the Hokage's son as he passed by. Moegi told Bolt he could go inside Naruto's office, yet the blond didn't move to stand up.

Boruto was nervous to enter the room. When he was younger, he used to barge into the room like he owned it, not caring if he interrupted any important meetings the Hokage was in. The old secretary eventually had him banned from entering the entire building unless he had a mission to report, but his father put a stop to that real quick.

Nowadays, he didn't enter the room unless he had to, preferring to avoid his duties and his father as much as he possibly could. Today, though, he made an appointment to speak to his father. It was odd that to get any alone time with one of the people that created him, he had to wait in line and book a session, just like everyone else.

The door opened and his father stuck his blond head out, smiling wide when he spotted his eldest child waiting patiently in the waiting room. "Why are you waiting out there? Come on in!" His father looked ecstatic to see him, as if their entire past full of misunderstandings and regret didn't hold him down. Boruto didn't know his father well enough to tell when he was faking. He wondered if anyone could. He doubted that his mother could.

Naruto was still smiling, not noticing his son's nervous expression. Boruto wondered if his father knew him well enough to know his facial expressions, to know when Boruto was faking.

Boruto forced a smile on his face and stood up from the green waiting chair and followed his father into his office. In his hands, he clenched a bento box wrapped in a light blue handkerchief. When he sat down in one of the chairs in front of his father's desk, he pushed it toward his dad, who blinked at it.

"It's from mom, idiot," Boruto muttered, forcing the bento box into his father's awaiting hands. Naruto grinned widely and ignored his 0son's words.

"Your mother takes good care of me," Naruto sighed, a love struck look on his tan face. He began untying the handkerchief with deft fingers, unwrapping to show a box lunch filled to the brim.

The son decided that he didn't need to answer and instead looked around the office that was the main place he ever saw his father anymore. It looked like how it always did, empty and impersonal and full of paperwork.

Naruto finally found his chopsticks that were in his top drawer and looked toward his son who was slumped down in his seat, a faraway look in his eyes.

"So, what brings you in today? You didn't need to make an appointment to drop off a bento box, ya know," His father asked as he lifted some sticky rice into his mouth.

"Do I have to have a reason to visit my own father?" Boruto asked, tone slightly on edge. Naruto winced, having said the wrong thing. It seemed like one of them always rubbed the other wrong.

They sat in silence, Naruto eating while looking at paperwork, Boruto looking past his father toward the stone Kages.

After a few minutes of silence, Boruto asked, "Dad, do you love mom?" The question was asked with no hesitancy and no warning, giving a big shock to the older man. He started chocking on his rice, coughing into his hand, face turning red. Boruto watched his father, unimpressed.

"I cannot believe the seventh Hokage is about to die from chocking on food in his office. Mom will never forgive herself for making the food that killed you," Boruto sighed, drumming his fingertips on the desk in front of him.

Naruto flipped the bird to his son and forced himself to stop coughing. He took several deep breaths before leaning back in his chair.

"Why are you asking me if I love your mother? Of course I do," He wheezed out, voice strained from the attack from the rice. "I'm married to her, of course I love her."

"You still love her, after all these years?" Boruto asked, ignoring his father's question. Naruto noted that he was still having a stare off with the stone faces, not once looking at his father when he answered the younger shinobi's questions.

"Of course I do. It's different from when we first got together, but it's nonetheless real and it's stable. Your mother is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, and even after that I don't want to be from her side. Love changes and evolves, but some stay forever. The way your mother and I feel about each other is a forever kind of thing," Naruto said confidently, popping another piece of rice into his mouth, having forgiven it for the attack from earlier. He looked out of the side of his blue eyes to his son, who had an absentminded look on his face still.

"Boruto… Are you alright?" Naruto asked his son, nervous for some reason. Some days it felt like he knew his son inside and out; other days it felt like he was just some stranger with his sons face.

"Yeah dad, I'm alright," Boruto said, finally looking at his father. Blue eyes met blue eyes and he told his father something he hadn't even disclosed to his mother; something he probably wouldn't have told either of them, but sometimes just seeing his father's face made him spill all his secrets. "Dad… I think I'm in love."

Naruto froze and then started running his hands through his hair. "No,no,no; you're too young! You're still my little baby! You can't be in love!"

Boruto rolled his eyes; of course his father would make a big deal out of this. "Dad, I'm eighteen."

"Eighteen is too young for love!"

"Dad, didn't you marry mom at nineteen?"

"That's different!"

"It sounds like you're a hypocrite. Also, you're fine with Himawari dating Shikadai, so you can't say anything."

In their bickering, Naruto noticed the deep sadness in his son's eyes, and the dark circles underneath like he had been losing sleep.

"Bolt, why don't you seem happy about being in love?"

Boruto got that faraway look in his eyes again, and the older blond cursed himself for putting it back there.

"Because," His son started, tapping his fingers against the hard wood of the Hokage's desk. "Because… Because I don't think it is going to end well, Dad. Not all things do."

"If you love someone, you can't let them get away," Naruto said confidently.

Boruto chuckled lightly. If his father knew that he would have to leave the village to be with his love, he doubted the man would encourage him to follow his heart. "I'll keep that in mind," Boruto smiled sweetly at his father and his father grinned widely back before digging back into his meal. His heart stung because he knew his father thought it was a sincere smile.

Boruto was walking down the street, his head in the clouds as always. He was still internally waging a war within himself. It was a normal thing for him, being at war with himself, yet Yori was usually the thing that made everything calmer, not worse. This time was different.

"Hey, Blondie!" A slightly familiar voice called out. He remembered the voice vaguely, as if he had heard it in a dream.

When he turned around he was greeted with the sight of a small brunette woman with excited bubblegum pink eyes. He didn't know who she was, though she was vaguely familiar.

"Hey," Boruto greeted friendly, his voice holding a note of confusion.

The brunette smiled like she understood and didn't hold it against him. "It's Machi! I was your waitress when you and your man were on your first date!" Machi grinned widely and gave the blond a quick hug, as if they were old friends meeting after a decade of absence. Boruto felt a little rattled at the encounter. "How are you and your hunk of man meat doing, by the way?"

Boruto shushed his companion, grabbing her by the shoulders. They were stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, people weaving around them as if they weren't there at all. "Hey, lower your voice. Yori and I aren't necessarily out and about, if you catch my meaning."

Machi nodded understandably. "You mean _you're_ not out; not him."

Boruto sputtered, spit flying. "How did you know?"

"A man like that," Machi started. She entangled an arm around the blond and dragged him in the direction of a coffee shop. He couldn't understand how such a small woman had the power to drag a man a foot taller than her around. "A man like that knows what he's about. He knows what he wants and he gets what he wants. He is a grown man. You, you, on the other hand, are not a boy anymore, not yet a man, not a real one at least. You don't really know what you want from life, not yet. Not fully. Your youth will be your downfall."

Boruto's mind felt like a whirlwind of emotion. What even was going on? Boruto felt like he wasn't even a part of what was going on; he was just a stranger watching on.

Machi pushed him into a little coffee shop that Sarada loved to go to. When she ordered, she made Boruto pay for it. He didn't even hesitate; he just shelled over the paper money so he could escape this situation. Machi dragged him to a low table, pushing him down into the bench seat across from her.

"If you don't fix this, he's gonna get away," Machi said confidently, not looking away from his eyes.

"He already is," Boruto practically whispered. He ran a hand through his hair, making it stick every which way— a habit his mother smiled fondly at. "I think I'm gonna lose him, Machi."

"Well, Boruto, you'll only lose him if you allow him to get away," she stated calmly, adjusting herself in her seat.

"Wait, how do you know my name?" Boruto asked, confused.

Machi smiled widely and laughed a loud guffaw. It wasn't very 'ladylike', yet it fit the woman. "C'mon, the whiskers totally give it away. Who else has those except for your dad and sister?" When the barista called her name Machi motioned for Boruto to get it. He promptly stood up to do her bidding. "When you come back, you _have_ to tell me all the gossip of your love life."

It was weird, but Boruto knew he could trust this woman, who he had only met once before, with things he couldn't even tell his childhood friends. "Alright," he agreed.

Boruto was still conflicted. He had no answers for the question that was tearing him apart: Would he stay in Konoha with all the people he loves or would he leave with Yori, the man he loves?

He only knew of one person that could personally help how he was feeling.

The Nara clan was located at the edge of Konoha. It was connected to the dense forest Konoha was known for. The forest was deep and filled with wildlife, where the Nara Clan had taken care of its deer for generations.

Growing up as Shikadai's best friend, Boruto had spent a lot of time in that clan ground, running through the dense forest with the brunette Nara by his side. Their spirits were always light as they ran through the trees. Shikamaru had put a stop to their forest escapades after they disrupted the wildlife, but Boruto could remember the earthy smell of the world around, the dewy feeling of the leaves, and the way the sunlight filtered through the treetop rooftop and light up his best friend.

Even with his childhood in the leaves, he never saw one deer.

Boruto fought the feeling of nostalgia the sight of the clan ground brought him. When was the last time he was here? When the boys were in the Academy, they spent a lot of times out of their homes, trying to gain a sort of independence that was not allowed under the watchful eyes of their respective mothers. All the years after being assigned to their genin teams, they slowly drifted apart to where they only hung out every couple weeks, if that. Boruto wondered why life dragged you away from those you were once closest to, eventually left with nothing but double-sided memories and awkward meetings. The curse of time was inevitable.

Boruto walked through the rows of big houses, waving at those who waved first. They usually were the older people, who remembered Boruto as more than just the Hokage's son and instead remembered him as Shikadai's little friend. The younger generation of Nara paid him no mind, too busy with their games of ninja.

The blond noted that he stuck out drastically among the sea of dark Nara hair, making his way to his the childhood home of his friend.

Both younger and elder Shika were sitting on their front porch, playing shogi, braving the humid afternoon air to play a board game. Boruto couldn't understand what was so awesome about that game, but he expected it was a Nara thing; as an Uzumaki, he wouldn't understand. Shikadai was losing to his father, but not by much, blessed with the Nara game for strategic thinking.

Shikadai was startled out of his game when he heard the footsteps of his friend gracefully walking up the porch steps. Shikadai noted that his graceful nature must come from the Hyuuga side of the family, especially since he's witnessed Lord Seventh trip over air.

"Were we supposed to hang out today? Shit, man, I'm sorry, I must've forgot," Shikadai rose quickly from his seat on the ground, ready to ditch the the losing game to hang out with his friend.

Shikamaru greeted the blond from his spot on the ground and lightly told his son "language", something so half-hearted that Shikadai just shrugged off.

Boruto awkwardly motioned for his friend to sit back down. Shikadai sat back down confusedly, wondering why this all felt so weird. He raised an eyebrow at his friend, ready for him to start talking and explain himself.

"No, man, you're fine. We didn't make any plans… Actually I'm not here for you…" Boruto rubbed the back of his neck, one of the awkward ticks he inherited from his father.

"Why are you here then?" Shikadai asked, curious. His father was, too, except he wouldn't ask about it. Shikamaru lit up a cigarette instead, letting the smoke engulf him.

Boruto laughed awkwardly. "I'm here to talk to your mom," Boruto said, but it sounded a bit like a question.

Shikadai stared at the Uzumaki and just blinked. "My mom?" He repeated in a dazed voice.

"Yeah, I'm here to steal her away from your good-for-nothing dad."

Shikamaru sighed, knocking the ashes off the end of his cigarette. "Please take her off my hands."

"What was that?" A strong and chilling voice asked from the entryway of the Nara house. Suddenly, the air around the three dropped around ten degrees. They all turned to look at the statue form of Temari, who was giving off an icy aura. Out of all of his friend's mothers, Temari had to be the scariest.

"No dinner tonight," Temari ground out.

Shikadai groaned. "I didn't even do anything!"

"The son always pays for the sins of the father," Temari said cryptically with a faraway look in her eyes. Shikadai wondered vaguely what she was thinking about.

Shikadai outwardly groaned louder.

"You wanna get ramen for dinner tonight?" Shikamaru asked, unconcerned about his angry wife who was standing near him.

Shikadai nodded. "As long as I get fed, I'm down."

The two brunettes stood up simultaneously, abandoning their game for nutrition. Shikadai was still confused as to why his friend needed to speak to his mom, especially since they rarely spoke in the first place, yet he went along with his dad's plan of leaving the two blonds behind. Whatever Bolt needed to talk to his mother about, he would learn of it eventually, either through his mom or his friend.

The blond woman glared at the retreating forms of her men as they stumbled down the porch steps and away from the home.

"Don't die," Shikadai called out his farewell to the blond.

"If I die, tell my mother I love her."

"Don't be so dramatic, both of you," Temari sighed, motioning for the young blond to follow her inside the home. Boruto quickly took off his dirty sandals in the entryway because his mother didn't raise him in a barn.

"Would you like some tea?" Temari asked as Boruto sat on the ground underneath the traditional table in the dining room.

"Yes, please."

Temari sighed as she went to get the tea. "Why can't Shika be as polite as you?"

"Do you mean your husband or your son?"

"That's a good question," Temari stated as she left the room to make their tea.

Boruto distracted himself by looking around the room. The walls were painted the same color beige, the pictures aligning the walls (baby pictures of Shikadai, genin photos of Team Ten and Team Baki, an old picture of Kurenai with Asuma, a wedding photo of Shikadai's parents who looked young and not like they were recovering from a war, and a picture of Temari and her younger brothers as younger teams) hadn't changed over the years. It seemed as if nothing ever changed in the Nara house, which was a comfort. The Nara family was all about consistency.

Shikadai's mom came back in the room, balancing a tray of cups and a kettle. She gently placed the tray on the hardwood table, serving his green tea to him first before serving herself. Bolt politely took a drink of his green tea, trying not to wince at the bitter taste, the leaves having been steeped for too long.

"Boruto, why did you need to speak to me?" Temari inquired. Boruto always liked how she never beat around the bush, always straightforward, sometimes to the point of appearing rude. He wondered if it was a characteristic of having grown up in the desert, having to grow harsh in the harsh environment, or maybe it was something that developed after she married Shikamaru, who tries to avoid anything unless it was up in his face.

Boruto decided he should be straightforward, too. "What was it like, leaving you village behind?" The sand colored blond paused for a second, not having expected that question. Boruto couldn't tell if the question was unexpected for her, her face gave away nothing.

"I had sworn my life to fight and die for my village. I was prepared for it," Temari took a break from her monologue to take a sip of her tea from her black rimmed mug. Boruto reflected her, even though he didn't like the drink. "When I fell in love with Shika, it was the most beautiful thing I ever experienced. But at the same time it felt like a betrayal to my home, falling for a jonin in a rival village. When my brother created a steady alliance with Konoha, the marriage between Shika and I was turned slightly political, at least between our Kages. Our love was seen as an asset to both our villages, so in a way, being with Shika was a beneit for my village."

They sat in silence for a moment, drinking their green drinks, lost in thought.

A moment later, Boruto asked, "If you had to have chosen between your village and Shikamaru-san, who would you have chosen? If you could have only had one, but would have been forced to permanently give up the other, what would you have chosen?"

Temari stared into her tea, contemplated, as if she was practicing divination. She noted the tea leaf floating through the now room temperature water. "I think…" She started, tapping her fingers against the painted ceramic in her hand, wedding ring creating a bell like noise. "I don't know what I would have chosen and I thank kami every day that I didn't have to chose. But I know that if I would have had to choose between my homeland and my husband, I would have grown to resent the one I chose for forcing me in the position of having to choose."

Boruto took in what she said, letting it sink into his mind like the healing salves his mother used to smear on his skin whenever he came home from training with a multitude of cuts.

Boruto forced himself to finish his drink, the bitter liquid not tasting any better even after he obtained the sort of answers to the questions he had sought out to get.

Temari suddenly had a look take over her face, lips in a smirk and eyes sharp and calculating. Boruto was instantly nervous. He understood why Shikadai was always scared of his mother.

"Why are you asking all these questions, hmm?" The middle-aged woman asked, rubbing her fingers around the rim of her mug. "Has the esteemed Hokage's son fallen in love with a foreign girl? Ah, the scandal!"

Boruto turned bright red, stammering, "I-I… I've gotta go. Immediately." Boruto quickly stood up and moved toward the door. Temari giggled at him, and Boruto swore that she lost twenty years. "Thank you for the hospitality. I apologize for dropping by unexpectedly." Temari smirked into her cup. Hinata had really drilled manners into that boy. Now, if only she could get the Hyuuga to give her tips because Shikadai was turning too much into his father.

As the blond turned to leave the room, her voice called out, stopping him. "Boruto, whomever she is, she's lucky to have your attention. You're a good boy. Don't let reality get in the way of love. But whatever you chose, you will have to stick with for the rest of your life. This is not an easy decision."

Boruto blushed, nodded, and left.

A half hour later when both Shika men returned home, Temari was slightly tipsy, a bottle of sake on the table and a blush on her cheeks. Shikamaru raised an eyebrow at his tipsy wife, who was lying on the ground, blond hair a halo around her face. Shikadai forced past his father's still figure and sat down at the table, sneaking a drink from his mothers cup. His mother kicked at him lightly, her thin leg glowing in the dim lights of the room.

"Did Boruto get you drunk?" Shikadai asked, confused.

"Yes and then he had his wicked way with me," Temari teased. "That boy is good with his tongue."

A disgusted look crossed over Shikadai's face and his father laughed. Shikamaruu moved to sit next to his wife, who in turn placed her feet in his lap, leaning up to give him a sloppy drunken kiss.

"I love you," she drunkenly whispered, so it really wasn't a whisper. Shikamaru blushed lightly and whispered the endearment back, tugging his wife closer to him.

Shikadai groaned. "I'm literally right here. Stoooop."

Shikamaru shooed his namesake into the kitchen to get him a cup. He stole multiple kisses from his wife in the time his son was gone.

Temari grabbed her husband's face between her hands, her unpainted nails slightly digging into his skin. "You make me so happy. You and Shikadai are my boys. Thank you for the life you have given me." She blew her son a kiss as he walked into the room.

"What in the world did Boruto and you talk about?" Shikamaru questioned, taking the cup his son handed him. Temari poured her husband a glass of sake before topping off her own.

Temari sighed dreamily, "Baby Naruto is in loooove."

Shikamaru choked on the alcohol, the liquid burning worse.

"He really came here to confess?" Temari laughed dramatically at her husband's dumbfounded and slightly jealous facial expression.

"Please tell me that Boruto isn't going to be my new dad?" Shikamaru asked, joking. He of all people knew that would never happen— his mother would never leave his father and to top it all off, Boruto was gay.

"Your mother would never leave me," Shikamaru said confidently, taking his hair out of his high ponytail.

"I don't know, Baby Naruto turned out really beautiful with those big blue eyes of his," Temari giggled.

Shikamaru sighed and took a drink.

Boruto couldn't stop stressing over the situation with Yori. If it couldn't even last, then why even let it keep going? Why had they even started this in the first place? They should give up while they were ahead, before they caused themselves more unnecessary pain. Or maybe it would be more painful to cut their ties early, and have to watch each other from afar, never to be with each other for the remaining time Yori would be in Konoha, and then for eternity.

After all the people he had talked to today, nobody had helped. They all told him to choose his heart, because love is beautiful and rare, yet his heart loved Konoha as much as he loved Yori. He loved his family and friends and even though leaving with Yori wouldn't mean cutting those ties, it meant loosening them.

Boruto groaned. A part of him wished that Yori would have never started this with him, that this beautiful mess of a man wouldn't have ever spoken to him. The larger part of him was so grateful that this man had paid for a mission that he was assigned because if he had never, then Boruto would have never met the love of his life.

Bolt knew that it was silly to call Yori that even in the safety of his mind, but he was sure that the brunette was the love of his life, like how he was sure that the sky was blue and that grass was green. It didn't matter that Yori was from another village, it didn't matter that Yori was closer to his parents' ages than his own, and it didn't even matter that Yori was a man and that homosexual relationships weren't very welcome in his home village. It didn't even matter that Yori was leaving in only two days time.

All that mattered was that Boruto loved that silly man, who never seemed to act his age, who believed in dragons, and that all men are inherently good.

Boruto let the thrill of being in love for the first time wash over him, warm as the hot springs his parents took him to when he was younger.

After lying there for a long time, the shadows the moon cast changing positions on his back wall, from the outlines of monsters to the outlines of trees, serenely swaying in the night winds.

Boruto decided to get up and get some water from the kitchen, the solitude of the night not helping his decision. Boruto gently walked down the hall and then down the stairs, careful steps light as a feather after years of rigorous training. He walked into the kitchen and filled a clear glass with tap water. A noise from outside the back door quickly got his attention. The blond quickly walked across the mahogany flooring, his socked feet causing him to slip and crash into the dark wood of the back door.

"And I call myself a ninja," Boruto muttered to himself, nursing the pulsating red bump on his forehead.

"Boruto, is that you?" A voice Boruto knew from before birth called out from the other side of the door.

"Hey, mom, how'd you know it was me?" Boruto opened the door to reveal his mother sitting out on the porch, her pale eyes looking like two pale moons in the darkness.

"Himawari would have never tripped," Hinata smiled, eyes crinkling. Boruto cursed his little sister for being better at him at everything. He cursed her even more for outranking him.

Hinata laughed lightly at his sour expression. She patted the space next to her and the blond sat down, spreading out his legs like a starfish.

Mother and son sat in solitude next to each other, Boruto lost in the summer evening around him, his mother lost in her own mind. Boruto loved that his mother and he could sit next to each other in comfortable companionable silence; if it was his father, the older blond would be trying to fill the silence up with needless small talk, as if he was the quiet air around him.

Boruto turned to stare at his beautiful mother. She had a faraway look in her eyes, hands unconsciously messing with the hem of her silk pajamas. The look in her eyes was something he was too familiar with.

The disassociated look in her white-lavender eyes told him all he needed to know; she was not among the fireflies and mosquitoes and humid summer night air— she was in her mind, and her mind, as always, was wherever his father was.

After a moment of silence, he got the courage to ask her a question that had been bothering him for the majority of his life.

"Do you regret it? If you could go back, would you change anything?"

Hinata didn't have to ask what he meant. Boruto had always been perceptive to her emotions, even when he was really little.

"No," She said, her soft voice confident in the night air. "Your father is a decision I would make time and time again." Hinata leaned her head back, her face bathed in moonlight, her purple hair looking an inky black in the dark light.

"When you love someone with your entire being, you sometimes have to make sacrifices to make them happy. You have to decide whether they're worth those sacrifices. Your father is worth those sacrifices."

Boruto nodded. They both sat in silence for a couple more minutes before the blond stood up. He slowly leaned down and kissed his mother on her forehead, disrupting her bangs. He would always be a momma's boy.

Hinata closed her eyes, at peace. Boruto pulled away and quickly bid his mother a "good night" and continued inside and up the stairs, crawling back into his twin sized bed.

A couple minutes later, Boruto heard the front door open and his father quietly passed his wife unknowingly, continuing up the creaky stairs and into his bedroom at the end of the hall.

Boruto closed his eyes hard and willed himself to sleep.

In the morning when he woke, he woke with the decision that he could not give up Yori.

A/N:

Hey yall! I updated a lot sooner than any of us probably expected, including me! I hope you really like this chapter, it is the longest chapter out of the entire story. We are so close to the end. One chapter next and then an epilogue. I can't believe we have reached near the end, how crazy is this?

Please leave a review or follow the story or message me or favorite it or private message me! I apologize for the grammer mistakes and the such. I have looked over the chapter but I wasn't editing too deeply.

Thank you for reading.


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